


I'll be a moonsbreath by your side

by awkwardturtle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, BAMF!Stiles, Consent Issues, Derek is a Failwolf, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Light Spanking, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Marriage of Convenience, Nature, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, maybe mpreg later on, murder and torture attempts, so so much nature
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:51:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardturtle/pseuds/awkwardturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A marriage of convenience may be the only way to ensure the safety of both the Hale pack and the Children of the Forest. Stiles really really doesn't like Alpha Hale with his frowny eyebrows, tanned muscled body and surprisingly soft heart. </p><p>Or the one where Stiles is a magical child of the forest and Derek is a complete failwolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ash

**Author's Note:**

> The world is divided into Human's and Shifters. The Shifters, with their inhuman strength, speed and the ability to transform into wolves rule the open lands in packs. The Humans guard the forests, protecting Mother earth. From amongst the humans come the Unnamed, humans that were born with the ability to manipulate nature, see into the future and travel beyond the Sidhe to receive guidance from the dead. 
> 
> The characters you don't recognise belong to me. This entire thing mentions pagan mythology, like seriously very very loose use of the mythology so expect inaccuracies and made up traditions. 
> 
> Samhain is held between the 31st of October and the 1st of Novemebr. It marks the end of harvest and welcomes Winter. It is all so known as All Soul's Day, like Dia de La Morte, the belief is that during Samhain the veil between worlds is at it's thinnest and spirits travel between worlds. 
> 
> Thank you to Sourirwolf, who took the time to go over this chapter and leave comments all over the place. Without your help and encouragement I would have held down the backspace button.

He's sitting by his grandmother's feet, her unseeing eyes focused elsewhere as she drills another branch into the tree on his back, twisting it so that it knots around its brothers, weaves in and out of the roots and back around. It’s just him and the pleasant buzzing of the needle threading in and out of his skin, her calming energy pulses through him as the ink infused with her blood sinks into his veins. She turns him this way and that, handling him like a marionette and for once his mind is at peace, here in the glade there is no war being fought, no lives being lost, no worries or fears-just him and his grandmother’s firm hand on his back. He's enjoying the warm pain in the cold weather, it's just days till winter arrives, as frost seeps into his trousers from the grass he's seated on when the hunters return.

 

His uncle is at the forefront, his men gathered behind him looking worse for wear, their hair matted and greasy and their light armor clanking from rust and use. Many sport cuts and bruises and one even has his hand bound tightly in a splint. Their horses bray to side, restless and tired, many bend down to graze, Stiles wonders how long it’s been since they’ve eaten properly. They're travel worn and muddy and Stiles can already hear Grace's exasperated sigh at the mess that'll be created. She refuses to acknowledge them, despite having anticipated their early return and waiting eagerly for them, it’s the reason they’ve been out here since dawn. In turn his uncle ignores him completely, not even sparing him a glance as he addresses his mother.

 

"You were right. Deucalion has lost the war." his grandmother nods at the announcement, uncaring, and goes back to filling in the branch.

"Ma-"

"I warned the council that he'd lose. Whatever consequences they now face for taking that demon's side is upon their own heads." she puts down the tattoo needle and looks at her son. His uncle dismisses his men and Stiles would follow just to see Grace shouting at them but his curiosity, which had more often than not gotten him into trouble, compels him to sit and listen.

“They should have listened to her,” he says, waiting for his uncle to acknowledge him, look at him, anything at all that signaled that the man knew he existed. “We all knew what she saw would come true yet they refused to heed her warnings.”

His uncle's eyes harden, the only indication that he’s heard but as per usual he ignores Stiles, regards him as too young too foolish and stupid to understand the matters at hand. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to not resent the man for it but he had seen fifteen cycles already for Eochaidh’s sake, he was no longer a boy.

"Alpha Hale has set out a treaty. Attend the council tonight Ma. You'll want to hear this I promise you." he says solemnly, giving Stiles another hard look before sweeping off towards the hall.

Stiles' grandmother sighs, patting him gently on the head.

"When your generation becomes the elders A Stóirín*, promise me you won't be so airheaded." Stiles laughs, gives her a kiss to her leathery cheek, he can feel her tiny wizened frame vibrating from the power within her as his lips brush over her skin. The very blood that flows through her veins seems to hum with energy. Her bent frame and silvering hair give off an air of weakness but this is the woman Stiles has watched bring the most fiercest of men to their knees.

"I promise."

-

 

He knows he shouldn't be eavesdropping but his uncle had practically invited eavesdroppers the way that he announced that the council would be meeting to discuss the new alpha's treaty in the middle of the forest where anyone could have overheard. Plus alpha Hale was a complete enigma, the brand spanking new alpha who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere with his pack and taken out an alpha pack. There was nothing Stiles loved more than a good mystery.

He's crouched inside the cupboard of the drawing room, extremely grateful for once that the council was made up of normals, waiting for Najstarszy*, the eldest to arrive. It's obvious when he enters as silence falls immediately.

"Roran, what news comes from the north?" Najstarszy asks his uncle.

"Ma was right. The demon fell, alpha Hale stood victorious at the end, his pack of savages ripped apart every last alpha from Deucalion's pack except two that had switched allegiance." murmured whispers break out across the room as the others take in the news.

"Switched allegiance?" Suren voices what Stiles had been thinking.

"They did not share the details with us. We dined with them and found ourselves seated besides two alphas."

"And they do not challenge Hale's authority?" Najstarszy asks, surprise colouring his voice.

"No. They're oddly subdued and Hale assured me himself that they were not a threat to him." Roran says.

"Hale’s soul is pure, his heart has yet to be tainted by greed or pestilence. He shall rule far greater than Deucalion ever did. I see a thriving kingdom, prospering lands and peace between people and shifters alike under his rule. There is no doubt in Hale’s power." Stiles' grandma concludes, from where he's sitting it sounds to him like she's getting up to leave. He snorts lightly at the thought of her trying to leave early.

"Ma you haven't heard his demand."

"Demands?" Najstarszy enquires.

"Demand. Singular. He wishes to seal the treaty with marriage." Roran spits out as if it's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. Stiles rolls his eyes from his hiding place, his uncle was far too dramatic. Small chatter breaks up around the room as the other 13 elders take the information in.

"That's not unreasonable Roran, it's a very smart move to make. One of his betas taking a mate from amongst us keeps them safe from us and us safe from them." Suren tells him gently and yeah Stiles loves the dude-he's the only elder apart from his gram and Najstarszy with more than half a brain.

"You weren't there Suren! You didn't see him rip Deucalion's throat out. Two of his betas ripped Kali in half and Ennis was in pieces!"

"Roran you will lower your voice when speaking to your elders!" Grandma Stilinski admonishes, leveling his uncle with a glare that had reduced far greater men to tears. “Know your place.” She hisses at him, authority reverberating through through the room.

"I would if my elders were thinking straight!” Sounds of outrage rise within the room, all clamouring to talk until Najstarszy raises a hand to silence them. “He's not sending one of his betas to pick a mate, he's coming to pick a mate!"

"Even better for us. He'd never hurt the people of his own mate." Grandma glares, her eyes narrowing in a way that indicates that if Roran didn’t hold his tongue there’d be hell to pay for it later. If Stiles had enough room to move he’d fist pump, his grandmother was awesome.

"So what? We just let this savage beast of a man take one of ours? He's an animal, what will he know about love and compassion? Do you think he could be gentle even if he tried?! He could claw her to pieces or break her bones without exerting any strength at all! How can we-"

"Brother," and Stiles almost jumps out of his skin because that's his dad, his dad the peacekeeper who was meant to be meeting the Argents tonight in order to discuss methods of keeping peace between the Argents and the shifters. They were under the impression that the Shifters were all unstable and that wolf territories should be handed out to the humans.

"You're forgetting that the shifters too are humans like the rest of us," Roran snorts but John carries on as if he hadn't heard. Stiles is freaking out because his dad is going to kill him when he finds out where he's been and he will-his dad always finds out.

"Alpha Hale isn't like Deucalion, for one he has a soul and two he's not kidnapping our girls or ransacking our villages like he easily could, we took his enemy's side in this war, he could have easily chosen to kill us all-instead he's choosing to create an alliance. He has bestowed honour upon us by offering to take one of our own as his mate and we'd do well to give him the respect he deserves. A treaty with Hale and his pack won't just assure our survival through winter but keep other packs away from us. He's made himself a reputation now and we'd be smart to use it." John explains. _That’s right Daddy-O you tell him!_

"We can offer him something else, something he can't break-"

"He's doing a favour upon us. We can not throw it back in his face! Do not bring the wrath of an alpha down upon us brother-we need him." and Stiles has no idea how he can remain so calm, if he had a younger brother like Roran he would've given him a good beating a long time ago.

Najstarszy ends the discussion with "Roran give me the documents with the laws of the treaty." Stiles knows his uncle is fuming even if he can't see him and he knows the man will take it out on him somehow.

-

 

Word of his uncle's anger spreads like wildfire and rumors start up with it. Stiles is perched on a large boulder by the river the next morning when he hears about it, he’s trying to draw up energy from the surrounding nature, he really is but every time he closes his eyes and the seals on his body begin to come alive, the veil between himself and the sidhe becoming more apparent and thinner he's drawn back again by the two washers, washing clothes by the stream three feet away.

"I've heard it's Siobhan, they're always together."

"I've seen them together often. Confronted them about it too, told her it wasn't proper for a lady to be walking around with a man like that, he laughed and shooed me away."

"Shooed you away?"

"Called me a nosy old bat and told me to mind my own business."

"The cheek of him!"

"I'll say, I hope the new alpha picks Siobhan for his bride. Roran's pride needs beating." she titters. The other woman laughs, the sound like the squawking of a goose when she gasps.

"You don't think he'd cha-"

"Stiles are you done listening to idle gossip?" his eyes shoot open. Deaton's standing over him, an amused look on his face. Stiles can't help the nervous laugh that escapes him as he scratches the back of his head.

"I can't concentrate." he admits sheepishly.

"Should I send them away?" Deaton asks, nodding to the two ladies. Stiles shakes his head.

"It's not just them. It's everything! I try to concentrate and I can see the sidhe's veil but before I can reach for it I hear birds or the water or even the bloody ants climbing over rocks!" he says throwing out his arms, frustrated at himself. Deaton sighs and sits down across from him.

"I've told you over and over again that you are doing well for someone your age. A 15 year old being able to see the veil of the Other world-it's unheard of Stiles," he rolls his eyes because this is the fifteenth time he's hearing this speech yet Deaton always fails to mention how to control his powers.

"You need to find that spark within yourself, the one that sets these alight," Deaton points at the spiral across his shoulder which for some weird reason is still glowing. "Once you find it concentrate on it, focus all your energy on to it." he smiles, pats Stiles on the head and gets up.

"Wait! What does the spark look like?" at Deaton's shrug he rolls his eyes and falls backwards onto the grass. "You are so helpful by which I mean you are NOT HELPFUL AT ALL!" he shouts at Deaton's retreating form.

 

He sighs angrily and takes a moment to centre himself, tries to dig deeper to find the spark. The spark...where Deaton comes up with this stuff from is beyond him but the man is infuriatingly cryptic, only giving out the bare minimum information. How on earth is he supposed to find it when he has no idea what it looks like or feels like?!

His mother would have known what to do, she would have shown him how to reach over to the Other side the same way she had taught him to heal the animals and enrich the plants. The same way she had taught him how to keep his frail human kin warm during winter and find food when the snow fell thick. She wouldn’t have spun some spark mumbojumbo, she would’ve laughed when he spoke of his difficulties and hugged him tight, guided him through the steps and baked him cookies when he failed. She would’ve done all of that and more if he hadn’t killed her.

 

The days before Samhain had been her favourite, collecting drywood for the bonfires and setting the altar for the Feast of the Dead by the Elder Tree. You could hear her laughter as she carved wooden masks for the children all the way from the entrance of the forest, a trail of young ones following her around the village like ducklings as she taught them how to bury food for the wandering deceased and weave together crowns for their loved ones. Now the kitchens were devoid of her tinkling voice, the thicket of trees missed her weightless grace and the warm presence within their home had burned out the day they had returned her body to Mother Earth.

If he could just reach over, touch the veil then maybe, just maybe he would be able to see her one last time.

 

 


	2. Fir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time round but I'm completely emotionally dead after that episode last night. How fantastic was Hayley Webb?

They arrive three days before Samhain; the weather had dropped by several degrees, the very air misting as a small group of them wait by the entrance to the village.

"Punctuality is not their strong point." his grandmother says quietly beside his ears. "You'd think that after you lit up the whole path for them they'd be here sooner with their super speed."

"Watch, they'll come strolling through all casual taking their sweet time whilst we freeze our butts off here." he whispers back, not very successfully as his dad shoots him _the_ look. He blows on his bare hands, rubbing them together.

"Should have brought a coat son." his dad says as he shrugs off his own. His father's coat is thin but warm when he shrugs it on, huddling closer to him to share body heat "This winter will be a harsh one."

"Perfect timing for a treaty with the shifters. We'll have more furs coming in this cycle." Najstarszy mutters.

Dusk falls by the time they hear the rustling in the trees. Stiles is expecting a large pack, made up of mostly burly men but with some feral looking women. What he's not expecting is a tiny procession of thirteen people; apart from the figure at the front who's bare chest is wrapped in a wolf pelt, the head of it drawn over his as a hood, the rest of them are dressed in basic clothing, their hair neat and their bodies clean. Ten out of the other twelve look no older than him and two of them are definitely human.

He can't help but gape, this pack should not have been able to take down a pack of alphas. Najstarszy welcomes them with open  arms.

"Welcome Alpha Hale, you have joined us at a very auspicious time." he bows his head slightly as a sign of respect. Hale says something low, whatever it is has Suren chucking lightly and his father's frown easing slightly.

Hale ducks his head, swiping off his hood to reveal...holy Eochaidh. Alpha Hale's browngreengrey eyes turn towards him briefly before turning back to the elders. Stiles swallows the lump in his throat.  
  
"These are my betas. Scott, Isaac, Jackson, Cora, Boyd, Lydia, Erica, Ethan, Aiden and Danny. My uncle Peter and Scott's mother Melissa." he introduces them in turn, no one says a word about how he introduces the alpha twins as his betas.

"I hope we are not burdening you in any way." Hale says after a tense silence.

"We do not get many guests in these halls of ours. It'll be a pleasure to celebrate Samhain with others." Suren says brightly, waving a hand to dismiss the alpha's worries.

"You hide your halls very well. One would almost think you didn't want guests." Peter smirks wide.

"We all like our privacy." Stiles' grandma says, the tone of her voice a clear warning.

"What my uncle means to say is that we're very grateful for the path you illuminated to guide us here. We would have been lost without it." BulI.Shit. Stiles suppresses a snort and catches the eye of the beta Scott. He gives a short wave and is shocked when Scott returns it.

_

Derek:

The hall was packed, his head aching from the amplified noise of a hundred or so beings jammed into one room; the clanging of cutlery, the booming laughs and shrill giggles, the swish of the double doors as the servers walk in and out laden with platters of meat. Despite his senses being overwhelmed he's still plagued by that scent.

No matter how hard he tries he can't but help sniffing the air every other second. Despite the huge mass of sweaty bodies all stuffed into one large hall he can still smell the boy clearly. An amalgamation of dew, brine, honey, cinnamon and the chemical tang of magic wafting off his skin as he throws back his head in a laugh that exposes his long pale neck.

The boy's cheeks flushed from the heat, his brown hair curling across his forehead and those tattoos, God all those dark lines that peeked out of his neckline, curling across his throat and up his jaw-all Derek wants to do is vault over the high table and take him right there in front of everyone.

"Close your mouth nephew. You're drooling." Peter whispers. Derek growls low in his throat.

He turns to the other man sat besides him, the elder with the large smile but sad eyes, Suren, his mind supplies.

"Who is that boy?" he asks trying to feign nonchalance.

"Stiles? Elder Oluja's grandson. He is the peacekeepers son. Has he offended you in anyway?" he asks sharply. "The boy enjoys his jokes and pranks. He means nothing by it."

Stiles. He had been right to assume that the boy was an unnamed. Every brightly lit tree that had led their way had oozed the boy's scent. Peter had laughed for ten minutes straight, tears streaming down his face as Derek had doubled over gasping for air but he had been ecstatic, the thought of his mate being a talented magic user had made him eager and desperate to meet him.

"He hasn't troubled us in any way. My beta seems rather fond of him to be honest," he says gesturing towards where Scott's watching Stiles in rapt fascination as the boy talks with his whole body. "It's just that the trees that guided us here smelt of him. I was expecting someone older to have preformed such a large piece of magic."

Suren laughs loudly and Derek can't help like the guy a bit.

"Stiles will shock you like that. None of us were expecting him to be so talented but," he shrugs "he's full of surprises that boy."

He wants to ask more; wants to ask what Stiles' opinions on marriage was, if he was open to having kids, he wants to know every tiny detail of the boy's life but he holds his tongue and smiles.

_

"We've been here for all of three hours Derek. They won't expect you to have an answer already." Peter says later that night when they've retired to the guests house. His pack sit comfortably around him, well fed and tired.

"I don't see the point. I know who I want, why waste time?" he replies. The sooner he married Stiles the quicker he could go home, back to his own people.

"And what are you going to say? That you've found your true mate?"

"Yes," he bites out. "What's wrong with that?"

Peter sighs. "They'll hold it against you, you will have to meet their demands because they will have something that you want."

"They've already agreed to the treaty, they've also agreed to seal the treaty with the marriage. If they had any objections or wanted to add to the treaty they would have spoken out before hand. They can not refuse Derek." Lydia says, she's perched on the arm rest of Jackson's chair, Jackson who looks half asleep.

"The boy is an unnamed, his very name is so sacred that it is hidden, he has not even seen 16 cycles yet he guided us through 120 acres of dense forest, do you honestly think they'll give him up so easily?" Peter barks out. "No. Wait till after Samhain, wait till the last possible moment and then give them your answer, when it's too late for them to object."

"I don't like him." Cora says from her corner, she refuses to meet her brother's eyes.

"What's not to like? I saw you all speaking to him at the feast, everything seemed fine." Derek had watched Scott talk to Stiles with a wide grin on his face, Erica had even sidled up close to him by the end of the night and thrown an arm around him. His heart had swelled with pride at seeing his betas get along with his mate-not that he was going to admit that any time soon.

"He's too loud, thinks he's funny." she growls out. "His humor grates on ny nerves."

"Not everyone takes things as serious as you do." Erica bites out from her seat in Boyd's lap. "I found him pretty funny."

"You would."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Erica growls out, her claws extending.

"What do you think it means?" his sister snaps. "You'd find anything with a pulse funny as long as it gave you enough attention." Erica growls low in her throat, falling of her mates lap and into a crouch, Cora mimicks the position.

"Enough!" Derek's eyes flash red briefly, long enough for both girls to cower back and retract their claws. Their fights were legendary, both girls could stay at it for hours on end, their bickering eventually leading to bloodshed "What did the rest of you think?"

Aiden and Ethan shrug whilst Danny murmurs "he seemed nice enough." he looks past Jackson who has managed to fall asleep, the matters not interesting to him.

"He offered to show me and Scott how to carve masks for Samhain." Isaac says when Derek turns to him.

"He's funny and smart and kind. I only spoke to him for two hours but it seemed like I've known him my entire life. He asked us so many questions and even made shifter jokes. He treats us like people Derek." Scott says and Isaac nods besides him eagerly. If Derek hadn't been able to smell the camaraderie rolling off Scott he would have feared a challenge, instead relief washes over him at the thought of his mate getting along with his pack.

"I'll wait till the day after Samhain and then make my intent to marry Stiles clear. I won't let them refuse but I also want to give him enough time to accept and prepare for it." he says finally. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oluja-Storm (Serbian)
> 
> Let me know what you think of the chapter?


	3. Rowan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The show is killing me right at the moment, all those feels from last nights episode! I want to gather them all up and bake them cookies all day, especially Stiles and Derek. 
> 
> This chapter is the product of stolen minutes here and there and typed on my phone so I apologise for any mistakes. The meanings of flowers and trees have all been taken off the internet-I am no expert in fauna so any mistakes there I also apologise for.

**Derek:**

The tugging starts just before dawn and steadily grows so that by the time the sun has started to rise, casting its weak rays through the dense grey clouds and thick empty branches Derek's being dragged out of bed by nothing more than a gut feeling.

He treads softly, foregoing shoes, and leaves the guest house without waking his pack. That tugging, like a hook behind his navel leads him away from the large clearing the village lies in and into the thicket of trees.

The sound of rushing water hits his ears before all else and then the soft gold light which bathes the icy floor. The sight before him makes him stop dead, glad for the trees that give him cover.

His mate, Stiles, sits between the frosty blades, his tattoos lit brightly and his eyes closed. There's tendrils running down his arms, twisting around each individual finger. The ink weaves in and out, criss crosses in knots down his collar bones to his abdomen-following the trail of hair. Ruins litter most of his body- one by his left nipple, hidden below a pec, beside his belly button, etched around his biceps in chains.

He mutters quietly under his breath, twisting his hands in the air. Drawing patterns with those long nimble fingers, running them through the grass. He aches to have them all over him, wonders what kind of chaos he would be able to wreak if those joints were sliding down his body, sketching art into the planes of his skin.

Every where his palm touches, illuminating the ground beneath it; the blades quiver, the frost hisses and evaporates and then the ground shifts. The hard mud falls out in clumps and shoots push through.

His mother used to have a garden, behind their house. None of the kids were allowed back there, Derek and his cousins had ample space to play but that small cordoned off area was Talia's alone. She'd grow all sorts in there, sow the seeds in early and then watch them bloom when the earth warmed up. This however, this was something he'd never witnessed before.

They'd heard stories when they were kids, fables about the unnamed. Jeremiah and Lonah, Shehan and the wolf, Gonna the Good-most focused on the unnamed's ability to contort nature.

The flowers grew in a matter of seconds, sprouting and shooting up, the buds opening to reveal their vibrant colours before his eyes. What should have taken months took mere moments until Stiles was shrouded in flowers of all shades and species-their scent still not enough to snuff his one out.

"That's an odd thing to be doing so early in the morning." he says, coming out of his hiding place with a smirk on his face.

**Stiles:**

Stiles' heart misses a beat as he flails at the sound.

"Holy Eochaidh!" he gasps clutching at his chest. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Hale laughs, stepping closer. His in nothing but a light sleep shirt and loose trousers-seemingly untroubled by the heat-bloody shifters and their high body temperatures.

"Sorry. I thought you would have heard me coming."

Stiles snorts at that, yeah right, as if he could hear the footsteps of a natural predator, the shifters were built to be deadly killers.

"I doubt you thought that. I have a feeling you've been watching me for awhile." he internally fist pumps when the alpha ducks his head briefly, he schools his expression back quickly but Stiles had definitely caught it.

"You caught my eye. I didn't think anyone would be growing plants at the beginning of winter." Hale gestures at the bare trees. "Isn't the point of Samhain to welcome winter...not manipulate it into resembling summer?"

Stiles narrows his eyes at the insinuation.

"I'm not manipulating it to look like summer you ass. I'm growing them to weave in to the crowns."

"Crowns?" Hale lifts one eyebrow, his chiseled cheeks hitching up in a grin.

"Don't sit on the flowers! Look at them now! You've killed them!" he lifts the bud, pulling the petals back into shape and pouring life into them-anything that gives him an excuse not to look into those eyes that he knows are gazing intently at him.

"Yes crowns. We make them ourselves. Different types of wood and flowers to mean different things, we give them to someone special to us." he explains quietly.

"Is there a type of crown for courtship?" Hale asks after a pause. An easy sort of silence had stretched between them.

"You're going to _court_ the one you choose?" he gapes "does that mean you already know who you're picking?!"

"You smell surprised. Why are you so surprised?" Stiles flushes.

"I haven't got much experience with shifters alpha Hale,"

"Derek." the easy way the man gives his name out shocks Stiles. The title was a sign of respect, a way of acknowledging the man's status. 

The pack goes against everything he knew about shifters-fair enough his only experience with shifters had been the alpha pack. He tells Derek as much.

"The only alphas I've ever met Derek, were from the alpha pack. Deucalion forced us to cooperate with them, ransacked our food supplies and used our villages as base. Our sister village up north was hit harder- he took whatever woman he wanted whenever he wanted-"

"And you thought I'd be the same?" the man laughs bitterly, a grimace contorting his face. "You thought I was like him, thought that I was going to just come in and demand a mate and that's it."

The last part's a statement, spoken quietly whilst he shook his head.

"I don't have much experience with shifters!" he exclaims as an excuse, he knows it's a pathetic one.

"I haven't had much experience with humans-as far as I knew you had all willingly supported my enemy yet I still saved your northern village." Derek snaps back. He stands up, his frame looks large, menacing, as if he's inches away from transforming. Stiles flinches, moves backwards slightly and it seems to snap the alpha out of his daze.

"Forget it. Forget I said anything." he says as he turns on his heels.

"We never asked for your help!" Stiles calls to the man's retreating back because he never learnt when to leave things be.

_  
  


The children that normally rush to him when he settles by the fire pit in the very centre of the village shy away at the edge, their wide eyes warily watching the two companions beside him. Stiles smiles wide, beckoning them to come closer before bending down to light the pit.   
The dancing flame in his palm catches the dead wood quickly, the heat drawing the children in like moths to the light.

It's mid morning, frosty and cold, the world a dull grey. When the kids are settled, as far as they can be from Isaac and Scott, Stiles smiles wide and sits in front of them.

"Morning all. Is everyone excited for Samhain?" there's a break out of chatter as they nod their heads, all eager to be heard. He gestures for the two shifters to come closer.

"This is Scott and Isaac. They have no idea what Samhain is!" he says as if it's the most absurd thing ever. Ria, the daughter of Dana the baker who usually slips Stiles an extra pie alongside with his buns, smacks her hands over her mouth and gasps loudly.

"I know! Can you believe it?" Stiles laughs. "We can show them right? You guys will help me teach them about Samhain?"

Half an hour later and Scott's got a lap full of Ria as she explains the meanings of different flowers whilst Nori shows Isaac how to twist the branches into a crown without snapping them.

The prickling feeling that someone's watching him makes him turn around in time to see Derek staring intensely into Mark's pumpkin display.

It angers him to see the man watching over his betas as if Stiles was untrustworthy, as if he would hurt the boys.

"I did it! Stiles look I did it!" Scott says suddenly, snapping his attention back to the small group where Scott is holding his crown. The twigs are crudely twisted together and the flowers hanging off dangerously but the affection behind it is clear in his wide smile.

"That looks great Scotty. It looks awesome." he says sincerely. Scott bends down to give Ria a big smacking kiss on the top of her head.

"Thanks Ria."

Isaac stops his work to smile helplessly towards Scott, looking down quickly when the former glances his way.

"Yours looks lovely Isaac." Scott says softly. Stiles takes Isaac's and inspects it closely, twisting it in his hands.

"Crab apple wood symbolises love and devotion and the dahlia flower basically means 'forever yours'" he raises an eyebrow as Isaac flushes scarlet, taking it back quickly.

"I told him that!" Nori says. "I told him not to make it with those!" The little boy crosses his arm and huffs, prompting Stiles to laugh.

"Maybe Isaac was making it for someone very special to him Nori."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I do Scisaac? Anyone interested in some side Scisaac here?


	4. Oak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been posted a bit later than I usually upload it but I have been super ill, like super duper ill. If any of you follow me on Tumblr you will know how lame and completely inactive I have been the past few days. 
> 
> Thank you to the 260+ of you that have subscribed to this. I had a freak out before publishing this on whether or not anyone would even be interested in it so every comment, kudos and subscribe means a tonne to me. Love you all.

**Stiles:**

When Scott had said "Derek's uncle is a creep, the king of creeps." Stiles had dismissed him, sure the guy had been rude when they first met but he couldn't be that bad right? Wrong. The guy was worse.

He had followed Stiles around whilst the boy had brought bread and apples. He had stood on the other side of the stream when Stiles had taken his clothes down to wash and stood in the shade of the trees when Stiles led the kids through the village to bury food for the dead that would start wondering tonight-on the eve of winter.

Stiles could see where Derek got his stalker skills from.

"You might as well come out." he says quietly when he reaches his door, pumpkins to carve in tow.

"Aren't you scared of the wolf?" the older guy says, slinking out of the shadows, Stiles suppresses his shudder when the man appears at his back, close enough to breathe down his neck.

"Scott and Isaac are coming any second now." Scott had seemed extremely eager to carve lanterns, Isaac had tried to look disinterested but the shy ducking of his head had given him away. Puppies, the bunch of them.

"It would take me less than a second to kill you." Peter says quietly, following him into the house. Stiles waves at the fireplace, the fire that bursts from the ashes is low but warm.  
"I think I could hold you off for a while."  
The guy stands by the door as Stiles deposits everything on to the table in the middle of the room, surveying the interior of the house-which Stiles has to admit does not require the amount of concentration Peter's giving it. Their tiny home consists of a large room with a clay oven in the corner, brass and copper pots hanging on the shelf and a low wooden table and four stools. The curtains to his and his father's rooms are both drawn so the sight definitely can't be that interesting.

"I guess you're right." Peter muses after he's inspected every inch of their dull grey walls. Stiles is spared the awkward reply by four betas crashing through his door.

"Sorry." Isaac mutters, looking up at him from the floor. It takes him awhile to realise he's sprawled over Scott but when he does he's up in a flash, barreling into Erica who's cackling at the sight.

"Aren't I glad I didn't lock the door." Stiles mutters, reaching over to help the other shifter up.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asks Peter, his eyes narrow after he's dusted him self off.

"Pumpkins. I hear there's a competition tomorrow. I want to carve one." the guy says pleasantly enough, you would've never guessed the man had been practically threatening Stiles seconds ago.

"Maybe you should carve it somewhere else Peter. Derek won't be very happy if he finds you here." Scott says quietly.  Again with the control...it's starting to thoroughly annoy him how much Derek doesn't seem to want his betas around him. However he'd rather have Peter out of his house thank you very much.

Peter growls low in his throat but brushes past Erica and Boyd and out the door nonetheless.

"What is with Derek? He watched us make the crowns and now doesn't want you guys near me? What does he think? That I'm going to kill you all or something because trust me when I say that's not even on the table." he asks them later on, after Scott had tried to carve out his pumpkins eye with his claws-only to get stuck.

"You're lucky you have such a pretty face Stilinski." Erica grins, leaving over the table to squeeze his cheeks.

"Derek doesn't hate you." is the only thing Boyd says, which doesn't really explain much about why Derek seems to want to keep a constant eye on him but it's the first time the shifter has spoken to him so he smiles gratefully.

"I don't see why you guys are even bothering to enter the competition, my pirate pumpkin is going to kick all your pumpkins' asses." Isaac says seriously, breaking the tension. Erica cuffs him around the head lightly.

 

**Derek:**

He may have over reacted slightly when he'd met Stiles in the forest. Slightly. However he did have the solution. Scott and Isaac had come back to the guest house after their crown making session with flowers in their pockets and twigs hidden beneath their shirts-discreet.

"Red tulip, it's a declaration of love." Scott says as he pulls a handful out of his pockets.

"That would look ridiculous hanging off a crown." Cora rolls her eye, kicking one across the room and Derek can't help but agree with her, the thing is huge.

"Peach blossom, it means 'I am your captive'" Isaac scatters a handful of small pink blossoms, they looked great but-

"I am your captive? That sounds like something you'd say when role-playing with bdsm." Erica laughs, Lydia gives her an appraising look but Jackson looks horrified.

"We did not need that visual." he spits out.

"Don't be such a prude pretty boy." she leans down to where he's sitting on the floor and trails her finger down his cheek. He throws her off just as Isaac pulls out more flowers.

"Where are you getting all these from?" Derek asks as all these flowers come out in near perfect condition.

"Magic Derek magic. These are jonquils. They symbolise desire."

"They look like daffodils." he says, picking one up and twirling it between his fingers. Despite being carried around in his betas pocket the lingering scent of Stiles still hangs on it, he wants to consume the smell completely but there's absolutely no way without everyone in the room making fun of him.

"Jonquils have much rounder stems than daffodils, a darker green almost black and they're far more fragrant." Lydia looks around at their gobsmacked expressions. "What? They're used in many aphrodisiac potions. Could you imagine what would happen if you put a daffodil instead of a jonquil?"

Derek shakes his head and resumes his searching.

"What's this?" he asks. Scott visibly perks up.

"This is one Nori completely forbid Isaac from going anywhere near. The crimsoneyed mallow, it means to be consumed by love."

When Scott pulls the pile of twigs closer to them Derek thumps his head back against the wall. Stiles better be worth this.

_ 

As soon as his betas catch scent of him they scamper out the house, muttering hurried excuses and apologies to Stiles. In hindsight it may have been better if they had stayed.

"What is it with you Hales and your rubbish creeping skills?" Stiles asks casually where he's cleaning the carving knives. The boy has no idea what he's doing to him, has no idea how the long line of firm muscles that's being presented to Derek as the boy bends over the table is killing Derek. The days grime and sweat only enhances that mouth watering smell and God, all Derek had wanted to do was drop off the crown and then leave and then maybe panic all night on whether or not Stiles would wear it.

"To be fair, our creeping skills normally work." he says, he tucks the crown into the back of his trouser waist band and covers it with his shirt before stepping over the window ledge and into the room.

"You could have used the door you know." Stiles says, finally turning to face him. "Can I help you?"

"I-um...well you see," he searches his brain for something, anything he could say. "What do I do tomorrow? We've never celebrated Samhain." way to go Derek, what a boring topic, the stupid festival seems to be the only thing he could talk about to the boy.

"Philistine." Stiles says quietly enough that Derek doubts he was meant to hear it. "You know you could have asked any of the elders right?" even so he beckons Derek closer and gestures to a low stool.

Derek gingerly sits down on a tiny stool, hugging his knees close to his chest. Stiles sits across him, long legs folded on the floor.

"Najstarszy is a busy man, Suren always starts a conversation with 'let's take a walk son' and your grandmother scares me." the little delighted laugh that tumbles out of his mate's mouth has him continuing. "There was that other elder...Kola...she fell asleep half way through dinner so she was out and Doris' scars intimidate me."

"The big bad wolf scared of lil old Doris. Though mind you, you have every right to be scared-she once carried an injured horse all the way through the forest." he chuckles at his own joke, licks his lips and then looks straight at Derek. "So your mind jumped straight to me? You know you could have used this as an excuse to talk to the one you're attempting to court."

"Will you help me or not?" he bites out. Stiles narrows his eyes but starts explaining the etiquettes expected of him. He talks about the feast and the games, the dancing and the hunting, the spirits and the magic until his eyes begin to droop. Derek listens through it all, only offering nods of understanding but when Stiles yawns loud and wide Derek says goodbye and hides a smile by turning his back.

He crawls through the window silently an hour later, parts the curtains that divide Stiles' room from the main room and leaves the crown on the boy's dresser.

* * *

I am on [Tumblr!](http://imtoodumbtocomeupwithawittyname.tumblr.com/) 

Oh and I hope you've all [voted for Sterek](http://www.thebacklot.com/ultimate-slash-madness-championship-round/08/2013/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday on Monday! Also GCSE results day is on Thursday so next week is celebrating week for me. The next chapter will be uploaded late but it will be long, like seriously looooong so get your reading glasses ready. 
> 
> I have an xmas Sterek fic planned out...is it taboo to write an xmas fic in the middle of Summer?


	5. Heather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long it has taken. 290+ of you have subscribed and that's the only thing that's made me type this out sentence at a time, whenever I had a spare moment for the last two weeks. I had guests come, stay over, leave and then more came the next day and the process repeated. My birthday came and went, my results came out and I did awesome for someone who didn't revise at all but it also meant I got accepted on to all my A-Level courses and I had to do all my summer homework...seriously English Literature is killing me and Physics hurts my head. Sorry for the late update!

**Stiles:**

He wakes up to the sight of a beautifully constructed crown by his bed. He reaches over a plucks it from his dresser, shock curling through out his body. Crimsoneyed mallows, purple heartseases and babysbreath all twisted into heather branches.   
"Dad!" he yells, scrambling out of bed, falling through the curtain that separates his room. "Did someone come over last night?"   
His dad doesn't even turn from the stove, just shakes his head.   
"Do you know who left the crown?" that has his father turning sharply.  
"What crown-what? Stiles who gave you that?!"   
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you!" his father takes it from him, twirling it in his hands.  
"Has anyone shown an interest in you lately?" he asks, eyes still on the ring of flowers. "Has anyone talked to you about marriage? Talked themselves up at you?"   
He shakes his head vehemently.  
"No, absolutely not."   
John finally looks up, his eyes heavy, tired and helpless almost.   
"This isn't just an 'I like you crown' Stiles. No one makes a crown that represents undying and completely devoted love for someone they like. This-this is a courtship crown Stiles."

Courtship.

The word has his heart sinking, lead in his chest. He heaves out a chokelaugh that has his father looking at him with worry in his eyes.   
"It's a joke dad. It doesn't mean anything." and to think he'd honestly thought someone had thought of him whilst making this, that someone had taken the time to find flowers that portrayed their feelings for him.   
"This type of stuff isn't a joke Stiles. We don't take this is a joke."

He holds up his hands in submission.  
"I know, I know. It's just- yesterday when I went out at dawn to grow the flowers I got into an argument of sorts with Derek...alpha Hale. We're okay now!" he adds when his dad's face darkens and he opens his mouth to undoubtedly tell Stiles off.  
"We're totally okay now. He even came by last night to ask me for infomation on Samhain! But yeah he had asked me if he could make a courtship crown when we met in the forest and I kind of laughed in his face and told him I had been expecting someone like Deucalion not- not him. This- I guess this is a 'haha Stiles I did it without your help. Look how perfect it is.' bummer for who ever he's planing to court. I'll have the same crown." he laughs bitterly.

His father must see some of his disappointment. He grips Stiles' shoulder and squeezes lightly.   
"Someone will make you a crown just like this. Or maybe you'll make one for someone. Throw this meaningless one away." he says quietly, handing it back to Stiles.

_

He doesn't chuck it, he has no idea why he places it tenderly in the folds of the clothes he is to wear to dinner. He has no idea why the ring of flowers that had fit his head perfectly when he'd given it a quick try on, wouldn't leave his mind. Derek hadn't made it for him, just to shove his beautiful craftsmanship in Stiles' face. Yet he hadn't been able to bring himself to chuck it away, he even planned to wear it tonight.   
'Only to find the person with the matching one.' he tells himself as he wonders through the close knit houses and the winding paths.

Finstock doesn't even notice when he arrives outside the hall late, slipping into the back of the group of unnamed, there's 15 of them all together, waiting to be given a job. Two of the shifters, Lydia and Jackson, watch unashamed. Their group always start work on the first day of winter.  
Finstock pulls out his list. He sends three groups to start warming the houses, one to help with the elderly and the kids and one to the storehouse where the food was stored.

Stiles ends up with Greenberg and Matt, headed for the storehouse. He keeps his eyes downcast when he sees Derek and Scott there, Suren showing them the inside of the storehouse.   
"Ah. I was just telling the boys here that some of you would be around soon enough." he calls out as they approach. "These boys will insulate the place, dry out anything waterlogged and the food to preserve it all."   
Stiles hopes that'll be it, that they'll move on, Suren will take them away to see another part of the preparation for winter. That's not what happens. Scott comes over just as he's hunting for holes, he's magic seeping out through his hand and into the wooden wall, searching for gaps. He nods in acknowledgement just as he finds a spot that had been eaten away by termites, he knits it back together again and calls out to Matt to check the food in that area.

"It's very cool how you're tattoos light up." Scott says casually, leaning against the wall, his eyes on the lines on Stiles' neck.

"It's cool how you have fangs and claws and can turn very hairy at will." he shoots back with a smirk. He can see Derek from the corner of his eyes, smiling brightly before schooling back his features.

"I've never met anyone so open minded about us." Scott admits sheepishly. "The whole pack kind of adores you." he suddenly has a headache, the need to get away from the sweet beta as fast as he possibly can. He wants to scream 'why did you let your alpha do this to me then?' wants to ask Scott if he hadn't been paying attention to Stiles when he'd explained how sacred crowns were to them. Wants to ask if it'll be a laugh when he wears the stupid thing any way.

"We hear the voices of the dead. None of the unnamed will judge you for what you can not help, not when we have the same problem." he says quietly instead.

Scott's face falls when he walks away to help Greenberg dry out the last of the harvest.  
_

Scott tries catching up with him again, casually leaning against the barn hours after Stiles had watched them disappear.   
"Do you have some time?" he says with a hopeful smile. Stiles shakes his head.   
"The dead will feast with us tonight. We have to prepare the tables." he tries walking away but the shifter keeps up easily.   
"Can I help?"   
He sighs helplessly and nods, leads Scott through the forest, across the stream and up a stone path.  
"This'll all be lit up tonight to lead our ancestors to the feast." he says waving to the trees as they wind up the path.

"Your ancestors really come out tonight?" the shifter asks, raising an eyebrow.   
"Not just our ancestors, everyone who's ever passed away wonders out during Samhain. The sidhe- that's the veil to the other side becomes thinner." he explains, even the shifters' ancestors will wonder tonight, the only difference is that they wont have a welcoming feast, no candles lit in their honour and no houses for them to spend the night.

"It's all true, it's not...?" Scott asks sceptically as they enter the glade. Three long tables stretch out underneath the oak trees, kitchen staff, children and adults alike already setting up the plates and centre pieces.

"The elder unnamed have always been able to see the sidhe. I've seen it myself. Touched it even, I've been trying to pull it back for awhile now." he murmurs, waving to some of the kids.

The people there nod to him, some wave and some pull him into a hug. At least three awkwardly bow to Scott, leaving him flustered and red.

"What do you need me to do?" Scott asks, still hot under the collar, swatting a laughing Stiles.

"We can start bringing in the fruit, or lighting up the candles. We've  made it in good time, Dana should be bringing along lunch any minute now." Stiles leads him to a large crate filled with black candles. "We arrange them in threes after every four plates."

He takes a handful and moves towards the closest table. "Tonight is the only night the Elders sit beside us. We leave empty seats for the dead."

"So the food you buried?" Scott takes his own handful, moving to the table closest to Stiles.

"For the lost dead, those who have no family or who have no doors open to them." he points at the pumpkins Lewis has brought up to place at the foot of the trees. "Ours will be amongst them somewhere." 

 

**Derek:**

After Suren leads them out he nods to Scott, indicating that he should stay behind with Stiles- guage his reaction of the gift he'd left the night before.

He himself thanks the man and then heads back to the guesthouse. Cora and Boyd train outside, nipping and snapping at each other, mere blurs as they swerve out of each others grasps- much to the amazement of the crowd that had gathered.

At the sight of him some leave, still too scared to be near an alpha despite him trying everything to gain their trust- including coming to live with them for a week. He sighs but nods to the men that remain, surpassing Erica who cheers loudly to her mate, much to Cora's displeasure.

As she loses focus to bare her teeth at Erica, Boyd fastens his jaw over her arm, twisting her until she whines in submission. Derek clamps a congratulatory hand over Boyd's shoulder before heading inside.

Jackson lays on the couch, Lydia perched on the armrest. In his hands he twirls Isaac's crown, narrowing his eyes at the curley haired beta that sits on the edge of the armchair.    
"You're honestly going to give it to McCall? As in actually give him a crown that screams love and affection?" Jackson asks incredulously. Derek stops at the door, eager to hear the answer. If his two betas pulled their heads out of their asses life would be so much easier for them.   
"Yes." he snatches the ringlet out of Jackson's hand and pulls it close to him. Lydia narrows her eyes at him.   
"I don't think you have the guts Lahey."

Derek ends their snickering with a short warning growl, the boys cower but Lydia stands, flicks her hair over one shoulder and looks at him expectantly.   
"Aren't you going to start getting ready for the festival?" she asks, an eyebrow arching. He scowls at her and then scowls harder when it has no affect.

"There's hours left till sundown." he grunts out finally.   
"You'll need all the time you can get to knock that boy off his feet until he can do nothing but accept your proposal." he doesn't know if he should be offended or not.

After he's been scrubbed raw and his skin itches as it healed the burn, he was wrapped into his favourite wolf pelt, a jet black bitch whose mouth hangs wide where she'd tried ripping a chunk out of his leg, her deep red eyes still burning. Lydia clucks her tongue, dipping her hand into beeswax before running it through his hair, tugging it this way and that way until she's satisfied with the way it stands. Erica, who had been brushing the fur on his cloak squeals at the sight of him.

The boys stride in to his room, dressed simply for the occasion and Isaac let's out a low whistle.   
"You're going to give the boy a heart attack Derek." Lydia smirks at the round about compliment and lowers the face of the pelt over his.   
"Perfect."

_

They meet Scott at the mouth of the trail, he smiles bright and gestures at the trees that pulse a deep green, not Stiles' then.   
"They've set it all up, it looks amazing." Melissa smiles at her son, taking his arm when he offers it.   
"I spoke to one of the cooks today, they've been cooking non stop since before dawn." she adds. Derek swallows heavily and then nods.

"Everyone on their best behaviour, keep your crazy to a minimum." there's no heat behind his words, just fondness that Cora rolls her eyes at.   
"Scott do you know if he-?" he asks, moving his group aside as a group of young girls run up the path, flowers plaited into their hair.

"He left awhile back to get dressed, I haven't seen him since." the boy says apologetically. He nods and gestures for them to continue.

Breath taking was an understatement for the sight they came to a halt at. The clearing was large, enclosed by oak trees. Instead of lighting the trees themselves candles sat on empty branches, inside carved pumpkins grouped at the foot of each tree, illuminated the tables with their soft glow. The long tables decked in the last of the summer flowers already strain under dish after dish. Children run between them, their laughter following after them like shadows, their parents glowing with joy.

"Alpha Hale. I'm glad you joined us for this auspicious event- may your ancestors find shelter tonight." Najstarszy beams, Derek returns the short bow. He leads them to the table in the middle. "I hope you're not tired, the night has yet to begin."

After the dinner where they leave spaces for the dead, the unnameds' eyes glazed as they see the wandering-they're led, the entire village, through the thick forests, over loose earth and small hills for what seems like hours. When they finally reach their destination the shifters stop in awe. The largest oak Derek has ever seen stands proudly in the middle. It's gnarled roots wider than Derek's whole body and taller than if Isaac had stood on his shoulders. The very tree itself, wider than thirty grown men starts at least thirteen feet off the ground.

"Oaks represent wisdom, beauty and truth. It sustains the lives of millions of tiny wildlife, even now in the winter when it's leaves are bare. The dead are attached to it, searching to safety they are drawn to the oaks. That's why we hold our feast by the oak trees. This one however," Najstarszy cranes his neck to look at the dark canopy above them and then sweeps across to where his people lay gifts of food at the base of the tree. "The pull on this is so strong that the sidhe, the veil weakens here during Samhain."

"It's very weak tonight. I've never seen so many cross through." he snaps his head to the side, glad his hood covers his shocked expression. Elder Oluja stands behind them, clouded eyes faced towards the root of the tree.

"You can- even though you're...you can still see them?" Derek fights against the urge to stamp on Jackson's foot but Oluja throws back her head, the same thing Derek had seen her grandson do, and lets out a loud laugh.   
"You silly boy. These human eyes are nothing. I was blind until I opened my other eye, the one in here." she taps at her temple. "Ever since I opened that I've seen clearly, even when my human eyes failed me my third did not."

"Oluja, I did not see you at the feast?" Najstarszy asks casually, pleasant smile turning to her. "I saw both John and Roran but I missed both you and Stiles?" Derek perks up at that, interest spiking, he'd wandered all night if his mate was purposefully ignoring him.

"I was getting Stiles ready. He has a big night ahead of him." when Najstarszy raises an eyebrow she shakes her head.

"I can feel your curiosity. All will become clear in time."

The smell hits him first- no the wrongness in the scent hits him first. The sweet salty smell of Stiles was marred with the irony tang of blood that has Derek's teeth elongating before he can stop it. He smells ink and magic and someone else's blood, Melissa gives him a look that has his teeth receeding and his claws retracting.

Stiles comes out cloaked in red, the soft silk brushes against the frosty ground, the border dampening to the colour of blood. His hood shadows his face, only his wind bitten cheeks and full lips peek out, he may not be able to see his eyes but he feels Stiles' gaze on him as the boy stops to talk to one of his brethren.

Stiles laughs, head thrown back and Derek's heart stops, his heart actually stutters and stops because he's wearing it! Stiles is wearing his courtship crown, the twisted branches fitting his head snugly, the flowers bright against his dark hair.

He hears Isaac whoop from beside Scott, his own gift held behind his back and Derek can't even spare a thought for how that'll span out, not when his mate has accepted him.

He stops right beside him, the little girl he had been speaking to backs away as Derek sweeps a hand over Stiles' hood until all that pale dusted rose skin is revealed. The boy's whisky eyes turn to him, curious and he shakes as he grabs Stiles' hand in his. The entire village seems to hold it's breath.

"You accepted my courtship. You've agreed to be my mate." and all hell breaks loose. 

 

**Stiles:**

He's snatched away by the elders before his brain can finish comprehending Derek's words, his brother's and sisters shielding him from view as he's dragged away. He sees Suren place a hand on Derek's shoulder, a wide smile on his lips as he pats the shifter's shoulder.

"What? What's- I don't understand!" he asks after he's been shoved into the great hall, the lights from the forest not reaching back to the village, the room bleak and cold. His brother's shake their heads, Matt seems stricken and Greenburg gives him a sympathetic smile and then his father's walking in beside the other elders.

"Dad! Dad what did he mean?" he asks, striding forward, panic clear in his voice. It's the first time his father slaps him, sharp and hard across his left cheek, it has him reeling, the warm sting changing into a dull throb.   
"I told you! I told you not to wear that crown! I told you to throw it away, did I not?" he shouts, hand rising again before he clenches it, looking away. "Why? Why couldn't you just listen to me for once?" he asks softly, not meeting his son's eyes.

Najstarszy tries to calm him down but Roran gets there first.   
"So disappointed brother?" he says with a laugh. "Weren't you the one saying that we had to give the alpha who ever he wanted- we can't disappoint him brother, not when he's bestowed such an honour on us!" he mocks.

He's shaking, Kola having to hold him up as his breaths become laboured. His father launches at Roran, grabbing him by the jaw, hissing and spitting but all Stiles can hear is the roaring in his ears.

It was _him_ , the one Derek had wanted to court had been _him_. The crown had been made for _him_ , specifically, Derek had spent time with _him_ , watched _him_ because he wanted him. It makes his chest ache.

His grandmother puts an end to it all.   
"Enough all of you!" her milky eyes glow and both his uncle and dad are skidding apart. "Stiles is the alpha's true mate." it has him choking, pulling away from Kola.

"I'm his what?"

His grandmother looks at him softly. "True mate. You're his true mate, his soul mate, companion A Stóirín. I told you all." she turns, surveying the rooms other occupants. "I had a vision of Derek ruling a beautiful properous kingdom, of him becoming a great leader. I didn't tell you how I saw Stiles by his side, stronger than he has ever been, kids with the unnamed's marks but with fangs and claws. I didn't say anything. I didn't know if it was true but then they arrived and he watched Stiles, followed him and sought him out."

_

"I accept Alpha. It'll be an honour to be your mate." he whispers quietly an hour later. He's been cleaned, his tears dry, Derek's gift sits proudly on his head even though his chest feels as if it's about to explode. His lip pulls up when Derek beams, taking his hand and leads him to the centre of the dancers. Over the drums beats Derek leans in, lip brushing against Stiles' ear.

"I'm so happy you've picked me Stiles. The honour is all mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a longer chapter and it didn't end up as long as I would have liked but I didn't want to overwhelm it. I didn't want to put too much in. Stiles is feeling a myriad of emotions right now. 
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	6. Acacia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so bloody awesome, all the messages and kudoses I get mean so much. Also everyone who's told me they love this world- I swear that's the sweetest most awesome compliment ever. 
> 
> There is sex...bad sex but sex nonetheless so if you don't want to read that do not read Stiles' last part after the feast okay?
> 
> This chapter was super problematic because I couldn't get it to flow the way I wanted it to...it just refused to co-operate so sorry if it's super suckish.

**Stiles:**

His grandmother had approached him before the feast of the dead, tugging him away. She'd sat him at her feet as she mixed the thick black ink with her blood.  
"Why are you doing it now Bibi?" he had asked at the first touch of the needle on the back of his neck. She hadn't answered then, just drawn the outline of a Sun above the tree on his back, etched a knot of feathers underneath his ribs. It was when she'd moved on to his fingers, adding another dark ring around his knuckles, the sound of the feast clear from her home that she'd spoken.  
"You'll be wed one day, my beautiful boy. This is the last time you'll have my blood in your ink, it'll be your husband's that fills the sun, it'll be his family's which draws the lines above your heart-pulling them to you. Binding them to you." he'd chuckled, let her turn his hand to draw on his wrist.

"I have a long time yet to go till I take my husband's mark. You have years yet to finish this and you never know Bibi, I could surprise you and marry a woman."

She had just clucked her tongue and cracked a vial of his father's blood over the bowl of ink.

_

This time, for the first time in his life, taking a mark hurts. There's four of them, all piercing his skin as they etch the wolf on to his side-it's jaw fastened around his abdomen, legs scrabbling at his hips and tail curving down on to his right leg. They draw out every inch of its sinew muscle, every individual hair on its majestic coat. The vial that had held his betrothed's blood lays broken, the fluid embedded in to his skin. He can feel it, the steady strumming under his skin that is Derek, somewhere out in the village is the man he is to wed tonight.

"I'm scared. I don't want to do this." he whispers, knowing his grandmother who sits a foot away, carving a bone needle for him can hear him.

"No one will love you more than he loves you." she replies simply, her knife skating against the edges of the bone.

"He doesn't know me. I don't know him." tears spring to the back of his eyes, stinging and threatening to spill.

"You'll learn to love him." Kula says quietly, pressing a firm hand to his arm as she sketches in the teeth.

"Did you really see all that?" he asks, a single wet drop burning a path down the side of his face. She dismisses them all, the others touching some part of his bare skin in reassurance.

"A stóirín. My beautiful beautiful little boy. Would I ever lie to you?" she stands up, coming to the bed where he lays and presses a wrinkled hand over the wolf, the pain receeds instantly. "You stand by his side at the mouth of a tent, legions at your command and a babe at your hip. You look different, older and wiser-a different type of smile on your face...you look content. The two of you walk to an enclosing where the shifters train and there's a little boy at the edge, his eye flashing blue but his skin marked. There's a girl wreaking havoc, sly and mischievous who uses magic to get out of trouble, you both laugh as she gets told off. Then the alpha winds his arm around you and-and I've never seen that look on your face. I want to see that look on your face." she adds sadly. 

"Bibi..." he lays a hand over hers.

"You'll be happier my child, I promise you." she says quietly, taking hold of the hand and squeezing tightly.

_

His father can't even look at him, eyes constantly rimmed red and hands shaking as he helps Stiles pack.  
"It's colder up North but if you need supplies, ink or herbs or even just an oak tree then go to the sister village. Alpha Hale should take you there." his father says with a wobbly smile when they're done and standing there awkwardly with their hands by their sides.

He's moving before he knows it, head buried in his father's chest and arms clenched tight in his woolen tunic, he hasn't done this since his mother died. His father lets him stand there and sob; tears and snot mixing at the prospect of leaving all this, leaving everyone he knows and loves for a man he met less than a week ago.

"If he hurts you in anyway, at the first sign of mistreatment, first sign of him turning out not to be as he seems you come back. Do you understand me Stiles? True mate or not, if he hurts you, you will come back here." he tells him, rubbing Stiles' shoulder as the hour gets closer.

"I don't want to leave." he admits in the warmth of his father's embrace. The arms around him tighten and lips press into his hair.

"It'll be okay son. You're grandmother knows what she's doing." 

 

 

**Derek:**

The first part of the night, a shifter tradition he'd insisted on having, flows smoothly. He can hear the villagers, standing in the clearing at the centre of the village, his pack on the side lines of the trees just incase. There's only one heart beat he hears clearly, in the centre of the people there's one that beats a steady thumpthumpthump- the very heart he's doing this for.

He sniffs out the buck quickly enough, down by the stream taking a drink. He's on all fours, his fur thick against the chill and his senses sharp. If he moves now the buck will see him in the reflection of the water.

Its ears perk up when he shifts his hind legs, getting ready to attack and then he's moving through the trees, too quick for the animal to even register and fastening his jaw around it's muscled neck. He can't stay and enjoy the meal though.

He drags it up through the forest, the great beast of a creature, until he's in the clearing. He ignores the gasps and the whispers and looks straight at one person in particular. The only one who betrays no emotions. He places it by his feet. The villagers move back slightly and his betas move forward, knives ready as they efficiently skin it and gut it in front of the crowd. The heart is wrapped up and presented to Stiles.

As the boy reaches out with trembling hands to take the gift Derek had brought for him, Derek's heart swells with pride- he was able to provide for his mate. He lays down wrapped around the boy's tense legs, rumble deep in his chest.

"The meat is to be distributed amongst your poor and hungry. The heart is yours and yours alone. It is the most beneficial part of the animal and only for the Alpha's mate." Scott explains. Derek hums in agreement, stretching his neck to nose at his mate's chest. A warm hand rubs against his muzzle.

_

He foregoes the pelt this time, opting to dress in a simple black shirt and stiff breeches. His only ostentatious attire being his crown, a thin iron band that falls just above his brow. The robe Lydia picks out for him rests heavy on his shoulders.

The people prefer night weddings, the serenity of the quiet- perfect for the shifters whose every movement is blessed by the Mother Moon.

Once again the clearing is decorated, this time with rows upon rows of chairs and garlands of ivy draped across the chairs. Candles once again sit on the branches but this time stark white instead of the black of Samhain. He himself stands under an arch of bunched stephanotis, a safflower dotted here and there- the smell is over powering but worth it.

He waits, all eyes on him, for Stiles.

 

 

**Stiles:**

When the tears are dry, his face blotchy and red he's taken away to be dressed. They dunk him in icy water, scrubbing every inch of him. His hair is cleaned and trimmed and wafts the smell of juniper. He blushes hard when the two boys- Najstarszy's servants- rub perfumed oil into the skin of his neck and between his legs. Then he's dressed in a white robe with heavy silver embroidery to showcase his purity and Finstock himself ties the amulet only given to fully fledged unnamed around his neck.

"Good luck." seems to be the only thing anyone can say to him. He nods his head in gratitude every time- he's cried enough.

Only his father's arm stops him from collapsing at the sight of all the arrangements. He can't even look at Derek who stands up front with Najstarszy. It's all a blur, he can't look at anyone, can't register anyone's face.

He almost trips on the hem of his robe, his dad's grip tightens and he blushes furiously, heart beating fast.

Derek's hand sweats lightly when his father hands him over. The man doesn't even look at him, just squeezes lightly. The nervousness of the other man calms him slightly.

Their hands are tied with a thin red ribbon and that's the last of it he remembers, the rest of it a blur. 

 

 

**Derek:**

He looks breath taking, a fallen angel in all his glory. He holds the slim hands tightly, sacred that if he lets go it'll all fade.

He wants to run his mouth all over the flushed skin, lick the sweat from the boys body. They'd seemed to have tried to bathe him in perfume yet his own scent over powers it all, Derek's mouth waters for it.

"For as long as I shall live." Stiles stutters out at the end of his vows. Derek's heart swells and he firmly repeats the words, meaning every single word in this human process.

The ceremony is over before he knows it. Jackson comes to clap him on the back and Cora hugs him tight. Both Isaac and Scott, their hands linked- when had that happened?- congratulate Stiles who ducks his head and nods.

_

The feast is splendid, they're back in the great hall they'd eaten in the first night. Once again the noise is deafening; the loud chatter and laughter, the swish of doors as servers walk in out laden with heavy trays, the clatter of cutlery. This time he's got a warm presence sitting beside him. For the first time ever Stiles is completely silent, his plate untouched and his face drawn.

His people come to congratulate them, his brothers and sisters try to feed them yet Stiles just nods, eyes downcast.

The growing sense of dread builds up as the thick scent of nerves and fear acrid in his nose strengthens.

"You need not fear me Stiles." he whispers, lips beside his ears. "I wont ever hurt you." Stiles shivers beside him, cheeks tainting with blood.

The need to mount, take, claim hits him hard.

 

 

**Stiles:**

He trembles slightly as Derek pushes his robes off of his shoulders, shivering when soft thumbs rub at his collarbone. He keeps his face lowered, doesn't- can't look into Derek's face.

"So beautiful." the man whispers, rubbing his nose across the Stiles' jaw. When the dry lips pass over his chin and towards his own he jerks hard. He can't, he can't let Derek kiss him- not when there's no love there.

"Not there, anywhere but there." he begs. He bares his neck to appease the man, whines high in his throat when sharp teeth nip at his skin, a warm tongue laps at it apologetically.

He goes willingly when Derek pushes him down on the bed, trying to blank his mind when a hand wraps around his hard length, one hand reaching down even further.

The noises that come out of his mouth are shameful, he tries to clamp down on them, biting his lip to keep it all in. 

"Don't. I want to hear you." green eyes plead from where he's crouched lower down, a finger pushing in.

He groans out, doesn't know whether to push down or pull away.   
"That's it." Derek whispers, increasing the speed. He's moaning outright, his lips a torn bloody mess. He tries to bite down on his hand to keep quiet but Derek shoves in another finger, stretching him wide and he's crying out in pleasure.

"It's okay. You're okay." Derek chants, rubbing around his stretched hole with his middle finger before the finger wiggles in to join the others.

"I can't. Please." he doesn't even know what he's begging for. He wants it to stop, doesn't want Derek inside his most intimate place but he also doesn't want it to stop- something in him, something feral and wild that wants it all. He's terrified.

"Sssh ssh ssh. It's okay. I'll take care of you." he pulls his fingers out and it's the opposite of what Stiles wants. He whines, pressing his feet flat on to the bed to grind down, he finds nothing.

He screams when Derek enters him. The man's above him, in him, all around him. He scratches at Derek's arms, his back and chest, tears springing to his eyes as short thrusts push him up the bed.

"I'm sorry. It'll get better, I promise."   
He's hoarse from crying, from this painpleasure he craves as much as he wants to push it away, when Derek freezes above him. Teeth grab his neck just as the knot catches his rim and the overload of sensations has him coming, arching off the bed with a bent spine and a shout on his lips.

Derek lowers them, twisting them so that Stiles is cradled in his arms, his head resting on Derek's chest, still tied together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'd love to know what you thought.


	7. cedar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is actually killing me. seriously why did I think it was a good idea to take Physics and English Lit? Then I got ill, like seriously ill to the point where i was checked for appendicitis (I don't have it) so this rubbish chapter is a product of a line here and there between lessons and half way through my politics essay when I can't stand writing about the pros and cons of Burkean representation. 
> 
> I wanted to make it longer but it's been a month since i updated so...uugggh. Imma gonna shut up now.

**Stiles:**

He wakes up to a warm hand resting on his thigh, a hot breath by his ear and a relaxed body wrapped around him. His husband sleeps on, head nuzzled in Stiles' neck and limbs wrapped tightly around him, it makes him smile slightly and relax into the hold.

"Are your bags packed?" Derek mumbles, voice thick with sleep. "We'll leave today." and he's tensing again, tugging out of Derek's hold.

"Do we have to leave today? Can't we stay just a while longer?" he pleads, skating away to the side of the bed.

Derek frowns slightly, just watching him for awhile before he shakes his head.  
"The kingdom is still unstable, I took over and then left three days later to head here. We have to go back before chaos ensues." he explains slowly, like Stiles is about to have a fully blown panic attack, which does not seem too unreal of a possibility with the way his breath is stuck in his throat- he doesn't want to leave.

"I-" his words get lodged in his throat and he's nodding, not looking up. "My bags are packed." 

Derek kneels up, placing a hand gently on his shoulder and drawing him closer.

"We'll come back, soon. You can come back with the traders in a couple of weeks." he placates; Stiles nods and tries to smile weakly at the man, acknowledges the kind gesture.

Leaving is hard. His father doesn't cry again, just clutches him tight- knuckles white where they dig into his back. His grandmother smiles at him, kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair. There's crying kids and subdued adults who all watch him mount the horse Derek had bought for him, Scott taking the reigns. He waves until he can't wave any more, until the sky is invisible beneath the thick twisted branches and the wolves get lost.

He wordlessly lights up the path for them again, every tree quivering with energy before they burst out in gold and Derek nods at him silently.

Scott tries to maintain conversation, tells him about the mountains and the hot springs, how the people live in simple conditions, how they'd love him so much. It hurts, hurts so bad because he doesn't doubt it, he doesn't doubt the beauty of the place or the humble nature of its people- he just simply doesn't want to leave his own behind.

The beta gives up after awhile, when he figures Stiles wont speak back and then proceeds to trudge silently, guiding Stiles' horse through the dead forest. 

 

**Derek:**

They leave the forest, walk through acres of plain land and yet his mate doesn't speak. They set up camp, set up the bed rolls and yet his silence remains. He starts a fire for them and then retreats, back against a tree and a warded shadow cast over his face.

Jackson and Boyd capture a handful of rabbits and a small stag, the others skin the fur, clean them and set up a slow spit roast. He sees Stiles glance over, hears his stomach rumble and then he's coming over with one of his leather bags and an apprehensive look on his face. He settles down close by Derek, their thighs pressed together as he digs around inside his bag.

"I have spices and herbs." he tells Cora who's impaling the animals for the fire. She glares at him, turning her face away but Erica drops down inbetween them and smiles wide.

"I will love you for life if you happen to have sage and thyme in there." she laughs, delighted when Stiles pulls a small handful out.

"I've got oil too." Derek raises an eyebrow, chuckling lightly, arm hesitating before wrapping loosely enough around Stiles that he could shrug away if he wished to.

They watch quietly as Melissa bats Erica and Cora away to man the spitfire.

"I don't hate you-" Stiles starts, startling Derek. "But I'm not in love with you. I don't know you." he whispers.

Derek nods, he can respect that.   
"Will you let me court you?" he asks, equally as quietly. Stiles shrugs and gives him a slight smile.   
"You can try but trust me when I say I'm not easy."

Derek grins at that- he's never wanted easy.

 

**Stiles:**

They get there the next day. Where he expected tall towers and stone walls there are grand tents, the whites turned beige in the sand. There are small children running in between, horses braying and wandering freely. He had expected weres everywhere but what he finds is humans...everywhere he looks he sees humans like the ones he'd just left behind.

"Where are the rest of your pack?" he asks, raising an eyebrow when everyone that comes to see them, greet them is humans.

"You were expecting more of us?" Erica asks with a laugh. Of course he had, he still can not figure out how they managed to take down the alpha pack.

He dismounts and is led by his husband towards the largest tent, one flap pinned up neatly whilst the other flutters in the breeze. The betas seperate, going their own way, Stiles throws them a backward glance before his breath is knocked out of him.

The tent is high and warm, a stove heating it up in the corner. In the center lies the largest bed Stiles has ever seen, more of a nest than anything else- a simple mattress on the ground covered in thick sheets and furs. There's a low table to one side and wooden chests where his bags are dropped off.

"Over here." Derek says, gesturing at him to follow. He tugs at what Stiles had taken as the back wall of the tent only to find it's just a screen to cover the area where they could bathe, a large metal bath and a wash bowl of water on the table.

"The water has to be brought from outside." he says, "anyone would be more than happy to do it for you. We all eat outside but if you'd like to bring food inside for now I won't stop you."

He nods and bites his lip.   
"My whole house- my old home would be able to fit in this tent." he says sadly. He misses baked clay walls and forests, it's just grass more grass and high mountains here.


	8. Red Maple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life sucks. It actually sucks duck eggs right now. Exams are taking over my life, work is killing me and my computer has actually rolled over and died. Sorry this is so short and sorry it has taken so long but I'm dying under my work load. Sorry for the shit formatting, I'm having to do this on the ipad -_-'

Derek:

He traces his finger down the black lines, follows the swirls, the dots, the knots that interconnect. His blunt nails catch against perked nipples, leaving bright lines down translucent skin. The stomach under his touch trembles, muscles clenching, limbs tense.  
  
He teases him for hours, biting his lips on a smile when Stiles shivers.  
"And this one?" he asks, leaning down to follow the path of his finger with his tongue.

"Safety." Stiles stutters out, face red as he turns it towards the cushion.   
Derek pulls it back gently, Stiles' hands fisting in the furs as Derek slowly pushes into him.

The wolf immortalised on the boy's skin howls when Stiles cums, long strings of it covering their chests, their faces and hair.  

He cleans him up afterwards, gentle hands slide the wet terry cloth over soft skin. Derek hates the smell of sadness that amalgamates with the scent of arousal and excitement, hates the way his mate rolls over to the other side- builds a wall out of cushions that he himself ends up crumbling by morning.

"Why are we moving?" Stiles whispers, not looking up, face still buried in the pillow. He shivers lightly and Derek aches to pull him closer. He stands to place more logs in the stove.

"The people here roam. It's getting cold so we'll be moving to the caves for safety and shelter." he says, coming back to the bed. "Come here...for warmth."

He does come closer but keeps one of the pillows clutched to him like a shield.

"Just like that? They'll up and leave their home?" he asks quietly.

"It's not home. They move around too much to call any one place home." he can't stop his hand from reaching up to trace the bow of his lips.   
_

They go hunting that last night, before the doe migrate deeper into the forest to shelter their young. They find a herd, lapping at the cold water, enjoying the last of it before it all freezes over.

Stiles wanted antlers for medicine. The djurs as he called them, shed their antlers annually. He'd pursed his lips when Isaac had protested about hurting them and made a scathing remark about how they'd be too dead to notice. Derek had hidden his laugh behind his hand, trying to push it off as a cough.

The herd consisted of four large harts, one of them a large male who's antlers were in the process of calcification. That's the one he'd take home for his mate. Three small calfs and seven hinds, three of which where heavily pregnant. The larger herd would be nearby and would attack if they made a commotion.

Erica crouches down, ready to take down one of the non pregnant doe, Scott setting his eyes on one of the large males.

They're not the only ones in the forest however. Two wolverines watch them with interest, hungry eyes following every twitch of the white tails.

Derek doesn't want to frighten the deer away with a warning growl to the wolverine so he waits, crouching low on the ground, hind legs ready to take down the wolverines as soon as they moved.

They attack in a blur of grey and brown, high pitched growls whistling through the forest as they try to take down the largest of harts and Derek can't have that. That deer is for his mate and his mate alone.

He springs out, his roar resounding through the air, he makes a swipe at the wolverine, slashing it straight through, blood splattering over his muzzle. The alpha deer attempts to make a run for it, the clearing filled with the sound of hooves and the growls of his pack.

Derek lunges for its hind, manages to bite down hard enough to cut through muscle and sinew and yet it still struggled, pulling away whilst bleeding heavily. It pants, tongue lolling as it gives up limping, choosing instead to go down with a fight. He dodges its attempts to spear him with the end of his foot long pronged antlers, swerving to the side time and time again until he's finally able to capture its neck in his jaws. He holds its head between his paws and slashes through its neck with his teeth. The injured wolverines scampering off at the victorious roar he lets out. His mate would be so proud.                                                           

Stiles:

When the pack returns from their hunt the fire is already roaring, men on hand to take their kill and skin them.

Like the night before they'd gotten married, Derek drags the largest kill to his feet, curling around his body with pride. He places a hand in Derek's fur, running through it slowly just to hear the deep pleased rumbles.

"He bought the one with the largest set of antlers." Erica says, morphing back into her human form. She chuckles when he averts his eyes from her bare form. "Our bodies bring us no shame, there is no such thing as privacy in a wolf pack." she winks, pulling on the clothes that had been handed to her.

"He'll learn soon enough." Peter says from where he's perched on a log, bathing in the warmth of the bonfire.

He crouches down to inspect his gift, grinning wide.   
"They're perfect." he says gratefully to Derek when he's back in his human skin. The man sits down beside him and breaks the antlers off its head so that the skinners could clean the rest of it.

"What will you be using it for?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as he rubs a thumb over it.

"Sets like these beauties are very beneficial. This bit here to here." he gestures the width with his fingers. "is the wax layer which can be dried and then boiled to make a tonic for children, to help their immune system, protect them through the winter, help their recovery. The middle bit is the blood layer. This helps with things like arthritis. I thought it'd help if the elderly had some, especially if they're lugging around heavy loads whilst they migrate. This bottom layer is the bone layer..." he bites his lip at the look he receives. "Sorry I got ahead of myself. You must stop me or I won't cease speaking."

"No, no carry on!" Derek says, setting his jaw, gaze intense...as if he actually cared. He flushes and continues, stammering until he regains his thread of thought.

"This helps strengthen bones and aging problems. It doesn't stop aging but the problems that come with it like brittle bones." he gestures to the tip, rushing through its explanation.

"The tip is the most sought after. It helps strengthn breeders after birth, helps their body heal. It also increases fertility in general. This is perfect, they're good for nothing once they're fully developed. Thank you."

Derek grins, briefly touching his arm before he stands to go wash, his skin coated in blood.

After dinner he takes a pot and sets it over the fire, as he waits for the water to boil he cuts through the antlers with his magic; Derek comes to sit right beside him, the others watching with barely veiled interest from afar.

He boils the wax layer first, lets it bubble and then simmer, storing it away in large bottles when it's fully dissolved. The blood layer fills the whole field with the metallic stench of iron, drawing him a larger crowd of spectators.

"We should hunt for more, these seem to cater to the ailments of these people." Derek says when Stiles lays the blood layer out to dry on the stones that line his fire.

"I can anaesthesise them whilst you remove them. They grow antlers every year, it won't hurt them if removed safely." he says, starting on the thick bone layer that would take all night. "They have to be underdeveloped however. We used to go hunting, all of us together and hunt for things like this. Mother Earth is strumming with life," he ignores Jackson's snort. "And the cure to every ailment can be found around us."

"Well we have you now, you can teach us." Scott says, settling down on his other side to prod at the drying blood layer pieces.   
_

They pack up their measly belongings, their pots and pans, their tents and move to the mountains. All sense of privacy leaving as they're cramped in one large cave at the foot of the mountain, the horses enclosed under an over hanging ledge to keep them out of the snow.

It begins to fall heavily, thick great flurries that coat the earth, freeze the waters and chill the bones. He uses as much of his magic as he can, keeping the fires burning, keeping the children warm, the cave dry.

At night he retires in their corner, huddled close to his husband for warmth. Sometimes Derek shifts fully, wraps his hulking furred body around Stiles to stop the shivering. Other times he reaches in to Stiles furs in his human form; heats him up from inside out with his burning touches and scorching gaze, keeps him quiet with firm red eyes as he takes him apart mere feet away from the others.

He wonders what the situation was back at home. Whether his father was warm and dry, whether he was eating well and getting by alright. Then the realisation that this was his home now, the cave and the land, and he can't stop the tears that burn his eyes. He likes the people, he knows he'll love them one day. He knows he'll love Derek one day too but he misses home; he misses the elders and the children, the seers and the unnamed, he misses the very forest that constantly thrummed with energy and life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for all the subscriptions and kudos, it really means a lot to me. Special thanks to bromanceorromance for reminding me that I haven't updated in ages. Comments would be much appreciated.


	9. Aspen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is pretty much awful. I finally get over one obstacle- by which I mean I've changed phone networks finally so my shitty old one can not ring me whilst I'm in class or trying to sleep with brand new deals- but then am faced with sixteen new ones. My computer has diiiiiiied, actually rolled over and spluttered its last breath and I can't replace it yet as we've just dished out just under 8 grand for a holiday I don't even want to go on (a whole month with no internet :'( ) 
> 
> Sorry it's taken so long for me to spit out a new chapter, and sorry that it's such a shitty one- I just wanted to get something written out. 
> 
> And before I forget; a lot of you commented on the whole antler shebang from the last chapter- yes, it is honest information. according to my trusty Google, velvet deer antler is used in traditional Chinese medicine- for the purposes I listed. However my preparation methods are completely and utterly made up. Most of the information I have here- so the flowers and the antlers etc...- are things I have researched so yeah :D

**Stiles:**

"Furs and skins...there should be plenty meat but take some incase- you can trade some for the harvest" he says, sorting through the piles on the cave floor.

"Is there anything in particular we need?" Derek asks everybody, though his eyes are focused on Stiles.

"Salt" "Herbs" "Rope" come the replies from those who'd taken stock.   
"Mustard oil and black seed" he says finally, after much deliberation, they'd need them when the winds picked up and the snow fell harder.   
  


"Are you angry?" His husband asks later, when he braves the cold to help them load the wagon. He shakes his head.

"I understand why you said no. There's always next time" he tries to smile reassuringly but knows it probably won't convince the man at all. "Just- make sure my father gets my letter please. And give him time to write a reply?"

Derek nods solemnly, stepping closer to him hesitantly. Derek reaches out and gently tugs his cloak tighter around his lightly shivering frame.   
"Stay warm and safe- no morning wanderings" he says with a small smirk.

"That was one time" he huffs, giving the man a small yet genuine smile.   
"Travel safe okay? Don't you go getting Boyd in any trouble- Erica wouldn't be pleased." he pats Derek's chest before stepping away.

Derek watches him for awhile longer, long enough for him to start squirming under the scrutiny.   
"I'll see you in three days time at most" he says finally when Boyd saunters out.   
_

He's sitting beside the fire, which crackles and spits as the wind roars through the crowded cave; watching two of the children wrestle, when Isaac returns. The girl claws at her brother's face with human hands whilst he in turn squirms beneath her in an attempt to grab her wild hair.   
"Audrey! Morgan!" their mother snaps, running a hand over her tired face, her body tense. "Enough of that now."

Isaac slumps down on the blanket beside him, so close in the cramped cave that when he pops his sore muscles their arms clack together, his hair sodden with snow.  
"The camp is still there- just south of the stream" he tells him. "I don't know if Derek saw them as he was leaving- they bare no flags nor the colours of any of the kingdoms"

Stiles frowns.   
"He didn't mention it as far as I know- didn't Scott accompany them to the edge of the valley? Maybe it'd be wise to pay them a visit later on?"

Isaac nods, gratefully accepting the bowl of stewed broth and the bread that's passed to him.  
"When Derek and Boyd return- the ice has yet to melt- the path down to the valley is hell."

"But the trading wagon...was it able to make the journey?" he asks, panicking at the thought of his family going cold during the winter, Derek had suggested he waited until the journey was safer to visit himself- had reasoned that the winters usually weren't this harsh but with the extreme weather precautions had to be taken. The lack of freedom seemed to be affecting them all. Only the shifters could venture out- yet even they came back within mere hours, cold and fatigued. The rest of them sat inside, huddled for warmth, grating on each others nerves.

"Derek and Boyd would have returned had they been unable to continue on. They've made it and they're most likely on their way back now" Isaac pats him on the back gently, moving away when Scott, Cora and Erica come in with fresh kill.

He can't help but worry, not about his people, he realises with a jolt but for his stupidly loyal husband. Isaac was wrong, Derek would rather lose limbs battling the odds than come back unsuccessful. 

 

**Derek:**

They arrive back a day after they'd expected to- not for the weather but because they'd spent an extra night in the small forest village.

He shakes the snow from his hair, stamps out the thin layer that had clung to his hide boots before following Boyd back through the mouth of the cave. They drop off the wooden crates filled with goods, Melissa immediately sets to work- parchment in hand to note down the new stock.

The straining journey through the snow and wind that had bitten and scratched at their faces, the awed yet frightened glances he'd received from the villagers, the air of distrust that had exuded from his mate's father are all forgotten when he sees the boy, bent over the fire, feeding it dried foliage, his scent thick and cloying, unaware that they'd returned.

He smiles to himself, padding towards his mate until he's right behind him. He hears Stiles' heartbeat pick up as he slowly comes into conciousness of his surroundings, slowing again when he realises who it was.

"And you said us Hales were bad at creeping" Stiles rolls his eyes at that.

"I still realised that there was someone behind me. You've only just gotten in" he says, gesturing at his thick clothing.

"A predator could have caused much damage in that short span of time" he counters, shrugging out of his pelt.

Stiles grins at him, a mischievous sly one that he'd come to both dread and adore- a sure sign that he was about to do something wild.

Sure enough, in one breath taking moment his skin shimmers as the ruins etched into it dance- the fire he was sat beside roars, flickering wildly out towards Derek but the flame that lick at his skin is cool and soft, like a lover's caress. Some scream at the sight, mostly the children as they scamper away from it, others ignore it- having become accustomed to Stiles' wild bursts of magic.

"I think I could hold them off for awhile- and then there's the matter of the wolf pack, the perks of being an alpha mate" he says cheekily, letting the fire recede back to its calm state.

Stiles stands, tugs him into one of the side chambers and towards their little corner.   
"I'll get you some food." he says "Rest and warm up."

He stops Stiles with a hand at his wrist.   
"Sit with me for awhile" he suggests, letting go to bring out the letter from his pocket.   
Stiles takes the letter with shaking hands, his fingers gripping on to the paper like thin vices.

"How is he? Is he eating properly? Has anyone been around to check the insulation of the house?" he fires off rapidly, eyes wide as he begs Derek for information about his family.

"He's okay. We stayed with him, he's warm and eating well. The baker-"   
"Dana?" Stiles injects quickly. He nods.   
"Dana, she sends him food every now and again. Her husband dropped a pumpkin pie around whilst we were there."

Stiles slumps down beside him, rests his head on his shoulder as if it was too heavy to keep up.   
"What else did you do?" he breathes out, warm breath tickling the skin of his neck.

"We got their on time, sun down the day we left. We dined with some of the elders; Najstarszy, Suren of course, Kola, your grandma. And Doris told us the story of the time she fought a bear." he beams when Stiles chuckles. "Your grandma didn't think it was appropriate for her to be telling us the gruesome tale of how she defeated it and then mounted its head on her wall whilst we were eating dinner."

"Bibi has a soft spot for bears and other large predators with sharp teeth. Mountain lions, wolverines, wolves and bears. We've never been able to figure out why"

He hesitates, heart racing as he wraps an arm around the boy. Stiles surprises him by slumping against him completely. He tightens his hold, drawing him in tighter.

"What did you write in your letter? I mean- you don't have to tell me. But your father barely looked at us when he realised you hadn't come with us and then he read the letter and insisted that we stayed with him." he explains.

Stiles tenses briefly before his muscles relax again. "The truth. I told him not to worry, that I was being treated well. I told him how some of the humans here have never seen an unnamed, how much they love what I can do. How adorable Isaac and Scott are, how Erica and Cora bicker but no one is allowed to say anything bad about the other, how Melissa reminds me of my ma" he takes a deep shuddering breath. "How you're kind and sweet, how hard you're trying to win me over instead of just expecting me to be happy with you."

His own breath is caught in his throat as he turns his face to nuzzle the soft warm skin of his mate.  
_

When they're out of breath and sated, a thin layer of sweat coating their skins, the beast within him purrs in contentment. Stiles' scent is far more potent at times like these, when he's loose limbed yet clinging to Derek for warmth, it drives him wild. It makes him want to nuzzle his skin, lick the beads of sweat that glisten in the creases of his joints like the world's most precious pearls.

"Did you see the camp?" Stiles asks, voice muffled in his shoulder. His voice brings Derek out of his reverie, the thoughts of how much he'd like to roll Stiles over and bury himself within him, over and over until their scents are so amalgamated that there is no doubt left who the boy belongs to- who Derek belongs to.

"Camp?" he asks, not really caring about the thread of the conversation- not when Stiles was so languidly stretched against him, all that flushed beautifully freckled skin pressed against him under the furs and blankets.

"Focus Derek" Stiles laughs, after he's spoken for awhile and realised that Derek had not taken in a single thing. "I know it's hard to with how distracting I am-"   
"You are. You are so distracting" he has to tell him, will keep telling him over and over and over again until Stiles understands how beautiful he is, how just the faintest trace of his smell, the barest sound of his voice is enough to leave Derek parched, hungry for more.

"There's a camp, just south of the river bank. Isaac's seen it everyday for the last four days whilst on his rounds." Stiles continues, flushed pink and radiating an embarrassed heat.   
"Camp? Who's?" he asks, sitting up.

Stiles sits up with him, hissing slightly when the covers fall around his waist and the cold air hits his skin.   
"They bare no flags nor colours. We don't know. We thought it'd be best if we waited for your return."

Derek nods.   
"I'll check first thing in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's commented/subscribed and kudosed. I love you all.   
> As always I'd love to know what you thought of it :D  
> This was written on my phone and then posted via laptop with the five minutes I had spare so apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes.


	10. Sorbus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's had mock exams in January, February and now again? this girl. our actual exam time tables have been given out and between early morning revision sessions, after school revision and work I actually do not have a life anymore. Whoop.

**Derek:**

Derek goes down in the morning, flanked by both Scott and Boyd, following the foreign scent down the valley. His biggest fear is a challenge, it'd be readily accepted if there was a threat looking to invade his territory but the weather was atrocious and the people fatigued.

"Where did Isaac say it was?" he asks, eyes taking in nothing but soft snow and the harsh line of the frozen river.   
"Just south of the river" Scott muses, turning in small circles- as if by turning away the seemingly non existent camp would reappear.  "They must have left...maybe it was a human camp, who didn't know this was Hale pack territory..."   
Derek shakes his head.   
"No humans couldn't survive down here unless fully equipped- and if they were fully equipped they've been in contact with shifters. They'd know I've taken over"

Boyd grunts in the back of his throat, standing at a distance to them, eyes on a simple threadbare piece of black cloth- thick canvas by the looks of it, almost frozen into the ice. Derek's head snaps up immediately, following Boyd's line of sight.   
"What is that?" he asks, making his way over.

"Smells like...like gunpowder and...and" he shrinks back, the great beast of a wolf skitters away from the cloth as if it'd explode at any second.   
"Don't come near it!" he calls, thrusting out an arm in warning. "Gunpowder and monkshood- its diluted in the snow"

Derek growls, talons elongating immediately.  
"Hunters" he spits, "In Hale pack territory"

_

"I don't see why they didn't attack" Stiles muses when they're back in the cave, his long hands tucking the blanket around Derek's body, folding the corners in to keep out the biting wind. At Derek's prompting look he continues with a shrug. "I mean you're a pretty big deal right now- took down an alpha pack. If I was a hunter and I knew you'd moved into a cave for winter I'd poison the cave, barricade it and then poison you all. What? I said  _if_ I was a hunter! I'm not actually going to!" he shouts when Peter snarls at him.

Derek quells his uncle with a dark look, his brain working a mile a minute. Stiles did have a point.

"He has a point" Lydia echoes "they had the perfect opportunity to take us all down- and Derek wasn't here, they had an almost easy access to us."

Melissa stops the morbid thread of conversation by entering the small chamber, frown on her face.   
"You've got them all worried by isolating yourselves in here- they're all scared of an attack."

"They might very well have to be. We've had hunters here on our doorstep for almost a week..." Derek admits, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Stiles grabs his hand on their way back to the main chamber for food, holding him back, realisation clear on his face.   
"We used to have recon missions- whenever there was someone within the forest or close enough to discover us, we'd strengthen our wards and then camp out nearby to keep an eye on them- learn their strengths and weaknesses in case it ever came to a fight." he whispers earnestly.   
_

**Stiles:**

He wakes with a jerk, just in time to see Derek leave their chamber. It takes him awhile to realise what had woken him up, the shrieks from the main chamber muted by the thick rock. He scrambles out of his nest, pulling on whatever clothes he can find- his breeches, Derek's shirt.

His heart stops at the sight that meets him when he runs out, a line of ash barricading the cave mouth, thick smoke curling out from the largest bonfire in the centre of the room- pungent and harsh, the shifters unable to do anything but skirt around the edges, a light coat of perspiration coating their skins.

"We need to get rid of it" a strong hand grabs him around the elbow, dragging him out of his trance. "Come on, give me a hand" Melissa says sharply. They put the flames out, looking for something, anything to use to chuck it out with.

Scott hacks, mouth covered with his shirt, eyes dim as he ushers the kids out. Stiles glances up, terrified when he sees even Derek stumble in his bid to get some of the humans out into one of the side chambers. He grabs the scalding ashes with bare hands, eyes stinging as he makes his way through the smoke, only to be stopped by the barricade.   
He turns back, trying to see through the dense grey cloud, throat itching as he inhales it in.

"Fill it all up in a pan. I need to break this barrier!" he shouts, coughing as the smoke travels in to his lungs. Stiles collapses on to his knees, trying to inspect the line. He fingers the area around it, a seemingly invisible wall stopping his fingers from crossing. It wasn't wolfsbane at least.  He leans down, trying to detect the scent through the sharp smell of Wolfsbane. Sorbus...scopulina, he decides quickly after Cora shouts at him to fucking get on with it they're suffocating over here. A barrier made from a type of Rowan to stop supernatural beings...including him.

He searches, the grey cloud in the cave so thick he can't see through it.   
"Cora? Cora is there a human in here?" he calls, knowing that at least she was still conscious.   
"No! Derek-" she breaks off in a cough, a dry heaving one filled with pain. "Sent them to the back"

He groans frustrated, they'd have gotten to the back chambers, it'd be too late by the time one of them was brave enough to come back to the front.

Melissa drops to her knees beside him...Melissa! Of course!  
"You're the only one here that can cross the barrier. Take it out and cover it in snow. I'm going to try getting rid of this to get rid of the smoke" he says quickly, closing his eyes. There was no point in keeping them open, he couldn't see anyway and they were drying out.

Melissa scrambles out, shock colouring her expression when the barrier doesn't fling her backwards. There's a thud from the back, someone had collapsed- a shifter unwilling to leave them and move deeper into the cave for safety.

He wracks his brain for ideas, eyes closed as he tries to _feel_ the barrier with his mind, skirting along the edge of it as he looks for gaps and holes, anything.   
Another thump behind him and a roar, Ethan he thinks, feeling around the barrier faster when there's a wounded moan from outside. There's a seam, an overlapping area, probably the start of the circle, inconspicuous except for the little ridge it creates in the barrier. He almost shouts out in triumph, scrambling to the very side of the cave mouth, hands slipping over sharp rocks, his knees tearing from friction as he hunts the seam down blindly. His hands reach up and out, wildly searching until he manages to hook his fingers into the ridge and _tug_ , pushing the two sides apart with all the strength he has.

He's never been happier to hear the howl of the wind, feel it nip at his face. After that its easy to ventilate the cave, push the smoke out and into the air where it disperses.

He sighs in relief, deflating, only to find himself airborne and slammed against the cave wall. He shouts out in pain as his head knocks back against it, Peter's hand wrapped around his neck.

There's a blur that knocks into Peter, sends him sprawling on to the floor a snarling mess before he realises it's Derek.   
_

**Derek:**

He stares down at him, rage overthrowing the nausea as deep growls rumble in his chest.   
"How dare you? How dare you touch him let alone think of hurting him?!" he shouts, trying to ignore his wolf's howl for blood.

"Coincidence is it?" Peter spits, sitting up, wincing as his body mends itself after his fall. "Funny isn't it that he says he'd barricade us in here and then poison us all just before it happens."

Stiles moans from behind him, a crumpled heap on the ground, and tries to protest. Derek silences him with a wave of his hand.

"If you hadn't noticed Peter, Stiles was the one that broke the barrier and cleared the air."

"Aren't we lucky! So lucky that Stiles just _happened_ to know that Melissa could get through the barrier, that he just _happened_ to know how to break the barrier." Peter hisses, standing to dust himself off.

"It was Rowan ash!" Stiles shouts, groaning as Scott falls beside him to leech his pain. "I know my bloody plants!"

"Enough!" Derek snaps, eyeing his pack. He must look a mess, half shifted from pain, eyes bright as he stares at them all in turn.

"Anyone else? Anyone else want to accuse my _mate_ , the one that just saved our lives of trying to kill us?" he spits out, relaxing slightly when the others shake their heads quickly.   
"Scott, see to Melissa outside, she should have buried the ash by now. Boyd, Ethan, get Jackson and Aiden to their beds, call me if they seem to worsen" he orders, scooping up Stiles, ignoring his protests.

He can barely see through the red haze as he lays Stiles out, tearing through his clothes with a sharp claw, growling at the sight of his bleeding knees, his burnt raw hands, the small stones embedded in his back.

"I'm okay, I'm okay" Stiles tries to insist. "You need to rest" he ignores him, leaving him to grab a bowl of water, a lemon, salve and bandages.

Stiles watches him with wide unwavering eyes as he cuts the bandages into strips, dipping them into lemon water before he starts cleaning the cuts. Stiles cries out in pain but holds still as Derek cleans his wounds.

He hums encouragingly, runs a hand through his hair to calm him before starting to apply salve. He presses a kiss to each finger on the hands he rubs the cooling ointment over, blows gently over the burn, kisses up his pale thighs as his hands try to soothe his ripped knees before he turns him around to sort out his back.

Stiles whimpers as each small fragment of stone is taken out, body convulsing as Derek carefully extracts them with his claws. He tries to distract him by kissing up his spine but Stiles is having none of it, crying out in pain.   
"Please- just leave it. Please!" reminding Derek how young his mate is, how sheltered he's been.

"Sshh, nearly done baby. I've got you. You've done so well" he praises, one hand rubbing the back of his thigh, close to where it curves up. "my perfect mate. You saved us all" 

He bandages him up before pulling him close, holding him through his whimpers as pressure is put on his wounds.   
"You're amazing Stiles. Absolutely amazing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'd love to here from you guys. Your comments always make my day.


	11. Chestnut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to update this during the Easter holidays but my friend of 14 years passed away in a road accident at the very beginning of it. After that, trying to write was impossible. The week after her funeral my exams started- and for those that read my ramblings at the beginning of the chapters you'll know these exams will determine what universities I can apply to. 
> 
> Whilst typing out this chapter (on my phone because I still do not have a replacement computer) I ended up getting far too drawn in to the research...all I had wanted was a simple name and ended up being sucked into the mythology behind it -_-' which ended up making me change the entire direction of this story. 
> 
> I have my last exam on the 9th so updates will come back frequently soon x. Thank you for your patience and support. 
> 
> Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whilst my Derek tries to be perfect he can't always be so. There is use of punishment in this. If it makes your stomach churn please don't read the last part for Derek and skip straight to Stiles. It'll still make sense
> 
> EDIT 31/5/14: I've put another warning at the beginning of the bit mentioned ^ and highlighted where it is safe to start reading from

**Stiles:**

He'd pretended to be asleep when Derek had rolled out of their furs, the man had pressed a kiss to his forehead, given a small chuckle and then left whilst Stiles' heart had clenched tightly in his chest- his own mate...how could anyone think he'd do such a thing to his own mate?

"Are you going to pretend to sleep all day?" there's a thump and then Scott's thick hair covers his face. Stiles splutters, spitting hair out from his mouth whilst also trying to cover himself up to the chin.

"I wasn't pretending" Scott rolls his eyes in disbelief and stretches out, turning to face him.

"Whats going on Stiles?" he asks quietly. "You're not- after yesterday?"

Stiles shakes his head, giving the other boy a light smile and a nudge on the shoulder.   
"Do you honestly think Peter's words would hurt me?" he's proud of his flippant snort "I dont care what he thinks"

"Don't take it personally, Peter doesn't like anyone" Scott says gently "He can't get through the day without accusing one of us of something." he lets out a laugh "Remember how he'd spent the entire day thinking we'd stolen his pelt- shouted at us all and refused to let us sleep until the evil bastard that'd stolen his pelt owned up?"

Stiles shakes his head with a snort.   
"I'm just glad Isaac and I got back before Lydia found it. I didn't know people could turn so red."

"I thought he was going to burst a vessel when it came out that he'd left it by the river after he'd bathed" they both burst out laughing at the memory, Stiles feels a whole lot better- at least not everyone thought he was conspiring against them.

"Scott, I love you buddy but you're gonna have to leave to let me get dressed" he says at last.  
Scott seems to take him in for the first time and then yelps, scrambling away from him.

"What crazy person sleeps with no clothes in this weather?!" he covers his eyes and turns away.

"People who have a six foot tall muscled furnace to wrap around" Scott seems to choke on his own spit, leaving quickly whilst Stiles howls with laughter. He's glad to have someone like Scott around.   
_

 

**Derek:**

They'd left early morning, too weary and weak to have searched the night before but when they had ventured out in the morning it's almost a pointless trek. Any tracks that the attackers had left had been covered by fresh snow fall, the thick layer of crystals smothering even the faintest scent.

"We may as well go back in" Boyd says after half an hour of aimless wandering and sniffing.

"The best measure would be to set a patrol schedule" Derek muses as they head back up to their cave. "They're not going to like it though."   
Boyd shrugs.   
"They'll complain about it regardless but if that's what you think would be best-"

"Yeah, we'll probably need two to cover the entire perimeter, have them start at either end and then cross over- over the river and back...two at a time for three to four hours before switching" he whispers as they enter the warmth. Derek frowns when he sees Stiles wasn't there- he'd told Scott to talk to him if the boy had kept up his slumbering act.

"Where is he?" he asks his beta, stripping off his thick woolen cloak

"Getting dressed" Scott yawns, standing when Boyd gestures them over to a side chamber with the map. Whilst he didn't believe Peter's allegation about Stiles Derek wasn't willing to take the chance of there being a traitor amongst his people.

Peter raises an eyebrow when Stiles joins them in the betas' chambers, plate of eggs clutched in his least burned hand as he settles by the map, but is wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

Together they figure out a rota and four different tracks for the patrol, making sure who ever was on watch would pass every area at least twice on their rounds.

"At least if you make your way up the hill you'll be able to smell anything unusual" he says lowly, folding the map up again. "Don't take the same route twice, keep it mixed up so that anyone watching you isn't able to figure out a pattern"  
_

 

**Stiles:**

"I wont be alone!" he tries not to raise his voice too high- they already lacked privacy- but it's hard not to when Derek's being the world's biggest bag of poop.

"That's beside the point Stiles." Derek hisses. The other man twists his entwined fingers as if he's stopping himself from grabbing Stiles and shaking some sense in to him. Stiles swallows thickly but refuses to back down.

"Then explain it to me! You have yet to come up with a single valid reason for why I can't. I wont be alone and even if I was Derek I'm more than capable of holding my own ground," Stiles stops his pacing to throw his arms out into the air.   
"Is it because I can't grow fangs or claws? Because my magic isn't just good for growing flowers and starting fires-"

Derek growls low in his throat, eyes flashing- a deep rumbling sound that builds in intensity until Stiles snaps his mouth shut with an audible click.

"I have never ever underestimated your magic" Derek spits, stalking forward. "You think after living with you for so long, after witnessing first hand what you can do I'd have the audacity to even think of you as weak?" Derek moves in close enough to crowd him against the wall, until the back of his legs and the plain of his back are pressed up against the rough surface, pain blooming across them as barely healed cuts are pressed against- his head protected by Derek's hand  
"You are missing the point" he hisses again. "Hunters are skilled Stiles and they roam together. No matter how powerful you are they are fully equipped to bring you down. On your own you don't stand a chance...and that's not something I'm willing to chance. Your safety means more to me then it all."

He cant help but soften- but this is his duty to the pack, as a member of their group who eats, laughs and sleeps with them. It was his duty to help when they were in trouble.

"Your betas will also be in that same danger" he reminds him quietly "Your pack"

"No means no Stiles" Derek spits "I will not put you on the rota and you will not join the patrol"   
_

 

So naturally he disobeys. Erica is more than willing to turn a blind eye when he ties up the laces of his boots and pulls on his coat and Isaac's easily swayed into swapping with him when he's reminded of the fact that Scott would be getting back and would probably need warming. The curly haired boy had blushed to the tips of his ears, asked Stiles if he was sure fifteen times before he finally gave in.

After the first hour he's on edge and beginning to regret venturing out. His magic was untameable in the unknown terrain; reaching out, winding itself down the cracks of rocks, beneath the roots of trees and sliding under the thick blanket of snow to create an image of his surrounding. Whilst it painted a clear picture for him it also amplified every movement- be it wind or wildlife- making him twitch and turn, heart rocketing, only to fall flat when it's nothing more than the wind overturning an errant rock.

Another half an hour and he has to vocalise his own stupidity to keep himself going. His senses were telling him there was something behind him, merely a foot away but every time he flung snow towards it, chucked a twig, hurled a rock they fell with ease. 

And then a twig snaps. Just as he's talked himself into relaxing.

Stiles speeds up, trying to gain distance without it seeming as if he was running. He moves as fast as he can, tripping over the hem of his cloak and then there's a hand closing on his shoulder and a hand over his mouth.

"Dear Lord Stiles don't scream or Derek will rip my throat out" Erica hisses. "Why on earth were you running?"

Stiles yanks away, flushed and panting from residual fear.   
"I thought I was going to get _eaten_ " he snaps. "You could have said something"

"You started running before I could! I didnt want you to scream." she shakes her head, relaxing. "Did you forget we were supposed to meet here?" it's only then that he notices his surroundings, deflating when he sees the frozen river.

"I didnt even notice. Derek's going to have a fit when I get back and somehow he'll know how I almost had three heart attacks during and will carry out his threat of tying me up and holding the ropes."

Erica wrinkles her nose.  
"I really didn't want to know" she says, taking a hand and swinging it between them. "You and Derek...it's like knowing your parents have sex- you know it happens but you'd prefer to try and live in denial land where you convince yourself that they're both living celibate lives." she shudders theatrically, the movement jolting his arm which he gently tugs away to swat her lightly.

"How do you think Derek and I feel when we see our cubs all grown up and all over each other?" he teases, only to get pushed down into the snow. Stiles cackles, sitting up and pushing his sodden hair out of his eyes.

"It works both ways Erica! Both ways!" he laughs, his wild magic retracts from its probing now that he felt safe and secure.

She rolls her eyes and holds out a hand for him before freezing.   
"Can you hear that?" she whispers, eyes wide and ears visibly twitching. Stiles in turn quietens, straining his ears before he huffs.

"You're not funny" he says petulantly, "If you're trying to frighten me..."

Erica shakes her head wildly.   
"Listen...there's...it's coming from-" she takes his hand, her claws lengthening as she leads him towards whatever he perked ears were picking up.

"You dragged me off the route for water?" he frowns when seconds later he's faced with a small pool with water running into it from a stream.

"Yes" Erica eyes the water up before she bends to sniff at it. "It smells good."

"The water smells good?" he teases skeptically even though he kneels down besides her "Is that...can you smell almond?"

"Vanilla" she sniffs hard again before darting a hand in and grabbing a fistful of white buds, more like soaked cotton that had began to disintegrate in the water.

"We need to get back to the cave" Stiles says, carefully taking the flowers from her hands. "Now"

_

 

**Derek:**

Stiles had given him the cold shoulder when they'd gotten in to their nest, built up a wall of pillows just as he had that first month or two after they'd mated and refused to talk. When Derek had woken that morning Stiles had avoided him- choosing instead to dry wood for the fires before breakfast before he'd retreated to one of the back chambers to help mend clothing his pack accidentally tore when shifting.

He'd felt uneasy, choosing to ignore the cloying feeling in the pit of his stomach by training with his betas- simple rolling around wrestling by the mouth of the cave.

Derek sighs when they're called for dinner. His mate had neither spoken to him since their argument, neither had he eaten.

"Could you put both my share and Stiles' on one plate? We'll-" he shrugs at Melissa's questioning gaze. The place was empty and cold without Stiles' displays of magic, his chatter and laugh.

"Stiles isn't here" she says slowly. "I saw him leaving with Erica awhile back" behind him Isaac swears.   
_

 

"We found a pool with these floating in it" Derek can barely see through the red haze as Stiles presents the sodden handful of buds. He'd been disobeyed.

"And they are?" Peter smirks, raises an eyebrow that reminds Derek that they were in public. He digs his claws into the palms of his hands as Stiles explains.

"Filipendula Ulmaria." he directs his gaze at Lydia, as if begging her to understand "it's also known as Meadusweet, mead wort, bride wort-"

"The lady in white..." Lydia trails off, eyes lighting up "but those- they don't grow around here...or in the cold" she frowns.

"Exactly. And these don't look or smell as if they have been dried or preserved. Someone grew them" the dejected look that crosses his face hurts Derek's heart. He hates that look, hates the fact that the smell of shame permeates off the boy as he huddles to make himself look smaller.

"An unnamed may have passed through the woods but that doesn't make them the attacker" Scott says quietly, catching on.

Stiles swallows, raises his head and then steels his resolve.   
"Guilty until proven innocent- there were hunters and at least one unnamed in our territory" Derek's heart seizes at the word _our_ "...in known Hale pack territory without our knowledge or permission. Both are guilty until we find out otherwise" he seems to stumble over the words in his mouth, hesitant before he lets them tumble out.

"Whoever it was is far stronger than me- we found these in running water...the entire river is frozen yet this stream was running straight into an unfrozen pool. Either they created a stream themselves sourced from the sea or had began to melt the river...both would require a vast amount of power and knowledge." 

"What does it do?" he asks after he's regained enough control to talk without growling. He jerks his head towards the mess in Stiles' hands. "What are they used for?"

"They're- well everything really" Stiles stares at him in awe before he storms on. "If there's anything on this earth thats close to a panacea it's this. It cures aches and pains, ulcers and cuts, cleans out the stomach and makes an excellent rub that leaves the skin feeling smooth. My- the children of the forest adore this plant. It's one of our three most sacred ingredients."

"In some places it is strewn across the aisle for a bride to ensure happiness in the marriage. It is said to bring calmness and relieve anger and stress- I am thinking of the right one aren't I?" Stiles grins, lighting up when Lydia seems to get it.

"Yeah- the story of Cú Chulainn who bathed with it to relieve his bursts of anger."   
_

 

**(I'd really rather not wake up to another comment on how stomach churning this bit is. So just to make it clearer, if you can not stomach punishment than please skip to Stiles' part, it'll still make sense. Thank you)**

"Strip." he'd held Stiles back when everyone had filed out back to the main chamber, led him by the hand to their nest and then sat down himself against the pile of pillows, trying to keep the hurt and disappointment from his face.

"Huh? Do you want to-" Stiles' eyes flit down to his crotch, raising again in question when he finds he isn't aroused.

"You disobeyed my direct orders, convinced my betas to disobey my orders and put yourself in harms way" he growls, "strip now and your punishment will not be as severe."

"My p ppunishment?" something in his voice must convince the boy to strip until he's standing shivering with his inked body on display, the bandages such a stark contrast to his beautiful body that it has Derek's hackles raising. The wolf on his hip stirs at the sudden biting cold, narrows its eyes before it wraps its tail around itself for warmth- watching Derek with bright eyes.

"Over my knee" he says quietly, feigning the calmness he lacks severely, patting them to indicate where Stiles should drape himself.

"Your going to...s sp-" Stiles swallows at his growl and gets down. It takes some maneuvering but he manages to get the boy into position. "Can't you just shout at me?" he asks, body trembling when Derek runs a hand down his smooth skin "Chuck me about?" when Derek starts to rub into it.

The first smack, just where his small bum met his thighs has him crying out and jerking forward, hands clenched in the thick bear skin beneath him. The second is slightly harder, red blooming under his palm, the third softer before he hits harder again.

"You can not disobey me" he says calmly over the boy's muffled cries. "you are my equal, my balance and a pack is only stable when the alpha and his mate are stable"

He softens slightly, rubbing the heated skin gently   
"No one, no matter how compatible will ever measure up to you. You're- you're my true mate Stiles...what if something had happened to you?" he asks softly, voice almost drowned out by Stiles' moan, so loud despite the fact that he bites his lips hard enough to make them bleed as Derek strikes down again.

"Are you enjoying this?" he asks in surprise, lifting the boy slightly to- he closes his eyes against the onslaught of arousal. "Stiles-"

"Sorry" comes the sob, Stiles' head bowed in shame.

"Sssh. You're perfect. Absolutely perfect" he whispers, helping the boy off him and down amongst the pillows before he starts stripping himself.   
_

 

**Stiles:**

**(Fret not for it is safe to read again)**

"I'm sorry. I lost control..." Derek whispers quietly when he's almost asleep. Stiles shakes his head, face buried in his neck.

"I shouldn't have disobeyed you...or convinced the others to. That wasn't right of me"

There's a soft exhale against his hair.   
"There was an attack on my people, on my territory. If they had found you alone and captured you- Stiles I don't think you've fully understood your position in this pack" Derek explains quietly.

Disappointment rolls off him in waves, until it's hard for Stiles to swallow.

"I- this is my pack too" he tries to explain. "I just didn't want to sit by idle. I want to help, I want to do my part."

Derek makes a wounded noise, tightening his arms around Stiles and then strokes back his hair.

"You saved us all yesterday. You do your part every day with the jobs you do to keep the people here comfortable and happy. And I can't ask anymore than that of you." he chuckles, slightly high and unnaturally but a chuckle none the less "Leave something for the rest of us to do" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I'd love to hear from you


	12. Larch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know where I've been the last year. I went on that damn holiday where for a month I was stuck in a country where I didn't even have access to YouTube, even my unlimited internet was too slow to load a video. I came back and that was it, school started again, my final year and that was that- free time just didn't exist anymore. I don't know if anyone is still reading this but thank you filmkid21 and Mayuree for reading this even when I hadn't updated in a year. I think I'm back for good now that life's under control.

Stiles:

It should have gotten easier after that- he understood why Derek didn't want to put him out in dangers way, he wasn't exactly pleased but he understood- yet he can't seem to shake off the feeling that he's missing something huge. He can't stop himself from keeping his eyes peeled. There'd been someone behind him when he'd been on patrol, close enough to touch, he's sure of it. And then there's the issue of the cave barricading, he'd spoken about blocking them all in and poisoning them all and then it had happened- had happened just as he'd described it...a traitor from within them maybe who'd heard him? No- only Derek's pack had heard that and whilst he doesn't know them as well as he would like, he's sure no one in the pack, not even Peter, would betray Derek like that. If it had been one of the pack they wouldn't have stayed in the poisoned cave with no escape route. So a human maybe? Someone who could get over the Rowan barricade and leave the cave? But who? Who had a motive to take them down when they were all being fed and kept warm? Derek's pack hunted for them, protected them, cared for them; Stiles has lived with humans all his life and never has he met anyone who'd bitten the very hand that had fed them.

It's all too confusing. On one hand he wants to be a good mate, one that listens to the pack alpha, especially when he knows Derek is only looking out for him, on the other hand he wants to be out there looking for clues, scouring their territory and looking for that other unnamed. Yes the wolves could pick up the scent of wolfsbane and by extension hunters but would they be able to trace an unnamed as powerful as the one that had unfrozen the river?

He does the only thing available to him- he starts covertly investigating the humans. Stiles starts off with tracking out anyone that has a motive. He wouldn't call it eavesdropping exactly, more like opening his ear up just that slight bit more whilst he did his chores for anyone that had reasons to betray them. Within a week he has to put that plan to a rest, it's not that no one had a motive- everyone had a motive. They were all stuck in one cave for months- the storm outside showed no signs of dying, the wind howled morning and night, whistling through the cave chambers, every morning he dried furs and clothes alike that had gotten soaked from the whirlwind of snow that danced in the main chamber at sudden intervals- kids fought but the adults did too, everyone filled with the restless desire for something to just happen instead of this ridiculous waiting game they were all playing.

Everyone had a motive. The humans were jealous of the shifters for being able to leave the cave even if for mere moments, some complained there wasn't enough food to go around, Mary had stolen Elena's rabbit skinned jacket, Dominic and Martha had almost come to blows over Dominic's inability to provide for his family- on and on and on it went, it wasn't a surprise that the claustrophobic atmosphere was slowly driving them all insane.

So that idea was out the window- he couldn't pick out actual motive for murder from plain simple grumbling.

Next he tries backstories, tries to find out where each human was from, what they had done before. He tries to cosy up with many of the families, find out their stories. But he's alpha mate. If someone was out to get them, he realises two days into his plan, they were very unlikely to tell him of all people that they had affiliations with hunters- not when he spent his entire time surrounded by werewolves, not when he curled around a werewolf every single night.

It's a failure. A complete failure. He has no idea how he'll determine whether or not there was a traitor amongst them.

Derek:

Stiles isn't angry with him. By all rights his husband should be furious with him, should be giving him the cold shoulder, brushing him off, should be sending letters to his father to bring his hunting equipment to spear Derek with. He had been so worried, as soon as Melissa had said Stiles had left his mind had jumped to the worst scenarios, every single one of them ending with Stiles hurt and broken, his pale skin marred with bruised as he bled. And then Stiles had returned, not even apologetic of having disobeyed him, had actually been in harm's way and he hadn't been able to think. He had just needed a way to make Stiles understand how much danger he'd put himself in. And in his bid to protect Stiles from getting hurt he'd hurt him himself. Had degraded his husband and treated him like an inferior being. For all his talk of Stiles being his equal, he hadn't acted like it.

Whilst Stiles had actually gotten up early the morning after, made him breakfast and smiled at him sheepishly- as if he'd been scared Derek was still angry at him, Derek would never ever ever be able to stay angry at Stiles- had been talking to him fine for days on end, Scott on the other hand seemed to be angry enough on Stiles' behalf.

"How do I make it up to him?" He asks Scott a week after having constant cold shoulder from his beta- he hadn't thought about the fact that his pack would have heard it all, even though they had all most likely tuned it out, they had all heard something. It's sickening what he did to Stiles, he still can't believe he'd been so...so animalistic and brutal.

"Tell me how to make this better"

"He's not mad at you for you to make this better" Scott tells him, tucking more wood into his sack. They were out gathering branches and logs, things Stiles would be able to dry out for them to use as firewood. He's not sure how the people survived without Stiles before now, knows his pack themselves are grateful for the warmth Stiles has brought with him- last year and every year before that they'd relied on their fur and internal body heat that ran hotter than a humans to keep them warm but this year the winter was much harsher, seemed like it wouldn't ever end.

"I don't want him thinking that what I did was right" Derek admits, as close to begging for help as he would ever get

"Are you doing this for him or because you're tired of me being mad at you?"

At that Derek has to snort, he can't help it

"When have I ever cared about what the rest of you have thought?" It's supposed to be a light hearted joke but there's also a harsh reality to it, he wasn't the best of alphas and what he had done to Stiles, his inability to listen to his pack, proved it

"I don't know him as well as you do and I don't know whether or not you'd even be able to make it up to him in our current condition" Scott admits, shoulder his sack and waiting for the alpha to pick up his own. Scott was right of course, they were jammed into a cave without the ability to get out for who knew how long.

It seems his hopingwishingpraying pays off a few days later; whilst winter was still ever present, it's icy grip still holding on to the world, it had rained during the night and the temperature had remained high enough for it not to freeze over again. It was safe to go out.

Stiles:

Over the course of one night and everyone's attitude changes drastically, as soon as it rains spirits are lifted. It seems like the entire cave rejoices this gift that nature had bestowed upon them. There's more laughter and chatter, the fire seems warmer and brighter and the food ample for once- he doesn't know why but as soon as it rains life gets just that bit better. In the morning parents take their kids out to play carefully in the snow, the pathway out of the cave no longer a death trap, shrieks of joy from both adults and children alike resound through the cave chambers- a welcoming difference from the wind that had whistled through for weeks on end. He doesn't know how long this weather will last but he prays that spirits are lifted enough to get them through this winter.

The pack remain on alert, patrolling the area, ensuring that the humans remain in sight- only his husband seems to be slacking.

"I thought we could go for a walk" the alpha mumbles to him in the evening as he's folding the clothes he'd dried over the fire. Derek had been acting weird- whilst he doesn't usually like to use words like that, there was no other way to describe Derek's behaviour. He'd seemed to be jittering all morning, following Stiles around like a lost puppy. It was adorable really.

"A walk?" He asks in surprise, putting the clothes down to move closer "where are we going?"

"Not too far from here, it won't be a long trek but it'd be best to dress warm" he does something with his face that...he's smiling. Derek Hale, the alpha of the tiny pack that had taken down an alpha pack was smiling at him unsurely- as if Stiles would reject him.

"Give me some time to dress and then I shall be out and we can go?" He says quietly, giving him a small smile, waiting for Derek to leave their chambers before he changes into woolen clothing to keep him insulated and stealing one of Derek's pelts to wrap around himself. Before they leave he packs some food for them too, unsure of whether or not they'd be back in time for dinner.

Derek looked so bashful waiting for him by the cave mouth, looked so pleased to see him ready to go out- he's not sure what had gotten into him, why suddenly Derek wanted to take him out- maybe the better weather had raised his usually grumpy husband's spirits too.

* * *

 

When Derek had said it wouldn't be a long trek, he had obviously meant not long by Lycan standards- by the time they reach the forest it's nightfall and his stomach is grumbling away where he'd been unable to eat whilst walking. He can't complain much, Derek had nervously taken his hand ten minutes into the walk, his palm sweating the way it had on their wedding ceremony, face impassive as he looked straight ahead. Only the slight quiver of his Adam's apple had given away just how nervous he was to be holding his hand. Stiles had squeezed tight and not let go. He doesn't know why but knowing that Derek was just as new to and just as nervous about this relationship as he was made him feel infinitely better.

"I thought you might like to visit the oak tree" Derek whispers when they reach their destination, his voice lowered in respect. Stiles knows the feeling, even those that weren't attuned with nature could feel the draw of the oak, the way it seemed to pull all living things towards it. "I know you haven't been anywhere near one since we were wed so-" Derek shrugs, as if he hadn't just completely won him over with his uncertainty and kind gesture.

"I've been meaning to ask you to bring me here for awhile now, just waiting for the weather to clear...thank you for remembering" Stiles tells him earnestly, to know that Derek had remembered that Stiles would want to see an oak amongst the hundreds of other things that must plague his mind daily, amidst the chaos that was currently going on with them having almost been killed...it's...its...

"Thank you so much" he says earnestly, kissing Derek's cheek before he detaches their hands and moves to crouch by the roots of his oak.

He bites off his gloves, eager to touch, just feel the life thrumming under his hands as he presses his palms flat against the base of the tree. He's missed this, missed hearing the almost silence, missed feeling the life of the insects as they slumbered hidden from view, missed being able to feel the very earth itself sleeping- waiting for the day the sun would wake it up again.

"I don't think it'll stay cold for much longer" he says quietly to the alpha behind him "there's movement when I expected there to be none- they're waking up"

Derek:

Stiles in his element is a sight to see, he hadn't seen his mate this still, this serene since that night he'd caught him growing flowers. Stiles at any given time was beautiful, Stiles when he's close to nature is an ethereal being Derek still hasn't managed to convince himself he is allowed to keep. In that moment he promises to himself that whenever Stiles wanted to visit the forest, Derek himself would move mountain and earth to get him there.

"I hope so" he says after a beat of silence, "I think we're all more than ready to leave that god forsaken cave" he wasn't used to being so cooped up, so trapped, constantly under foot with everyone able to hear his business. He doesn't like it, doesn't trust half these humans yet is trapped in an enclosed space with them on a daily basis, every single day all hours of the day.

* * *

 

 

"Stiles I need to apolo-"

There's a howl that has his head whipping to the side, ears perking in case there was more. There is. There's another howl, Isaac, followed by Erica's and then after a beat even Boyd's followed- only stopping when Derek sends his own answering howl, he was on his way.

They hurry back; when Stiles trips Derek lifts him on to his back to run, terrified now. He shouldn't have left them at such a time, not when they had unidentified enemies on their doorstep.

There's chaos when they do enter the cave, a woman wails, too crowded by others trying to comfort her for them to be able to tell who it is.

"What's happened? What's going on?" Stiles asks Scott who seems to deflate as soon as he sees them safe and sound, eyes flitting over them immediately to make sure they weren't hurt.

"Audrey has gone missing, one minute she was playing with Morgan- you know her brother and then they fought and she stomped off in a huff-" Stiles knew the siblings, had witnessed them fighting many times "and then she disappeared- we couldn't pick out her scent at all. No trails nothing. She's just-"

"It's as if she'd never existed" Stiles whispers, tattoos dimming, he must have probed around to see if he could feel her and found nothing. "How could she- how can someone just disappear like that?!"

Derek doesn't think she's disappeared, he's certain she was taken.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter lived up to the others, I just really wanted to get something up- hope it was okay.


	13. Birch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said last year that I thought I was back for good now that life had gotten under control, and I thought it had but after writing out two paragraphs of this chapter I got stuck in a dud where I knew what I wanted to happen and didn't know how to get there. The chapter got left on the back burner for a year. A very close and very talented friend of mine made the most amazing photoset for this fic recently, and after I stared at the colour scheme in awe for awhile it hit me that the two paragraphs I'd written a year ago just didn't fit- which is why I hadn't been able to continue. I deleted and started again. Chapter 14 is being written now and I'm setting myself the time limit of a week to get it done by.

**Audrey:**  
  
Dripping. There was something somewhere dripping. Pitter patter pitter patter, like someone had spilled a goblet of water on the table and refused to mop it up, left it there to drive them insane. The sounds of the drips were more welcoming than the screams of the others. She hadn’t seen any of the others, just heard their wails. The first few night- had it been a few nights? Weeks? Months perhaps now, Audrey had screamed too. She’d called for her mother, her father and her brother; she’d begged for Alpha Hale, for mother Melissa or Stiles; she chanted the names of every beta and human from the camp she could remember but nothing- no matter how much any of them screamed, no one came for them. She doesn’t scream anymore.

* * *

  
**Derek:**  
  
Disgusted at himself was an understatement, he had a plethora of words he’d use to describe how he felt about himself at that moment, ranging from loathing to repulsed, but nothing as weak as disgusted.  
  
“Don’t underestimate your betas Derek” Stiles had told him when he’d refused to sleep, pacing the cave, on constant look out for anyone trying to hurt his people “you weren’t here but the others were; they’re all more than capable of protecting the people- if they sensed nothing what good would you have done?” and maybe Stiles was right, maybe he wouldn’t have made any difference but Stiles would have. He’d taken himself and Stiles out of the equation. She’d disappeared without a trace, as if by magic, and if anyone in their camp stood a chance against magic it was Stiles. Stiles’ words do very little to ease his guilt.  
  
He sends out search parties high and low, scouring the valleys and the caves, the forest and the river- but nothing. Every night he shifts into his alpha form, paces the mouth of the cave before he settles down for the watch, only moving to make space for his husband. Stiles had spent the first few nights watching him from the entrance of their chamber, saw how Derek refused to take the night watch in shifts, watched him shrug away all offers of company before he’d decided he’d sit beside his husband and just refuse to move. At first Derek had tried to ignore Stiles’ presence, tried to beg him internally to leave him alone and let him wallow in his guilt; until he’d caught Stiles silently shivering one night despite the layers he wore. After that it became a routine for the two of them to sit together at the mouth of the cave, Stiles burrowed into his side when he was in his human skin or enveloped by his wolf form. Providing Stiles with warmth helped him hate himself that little less.

* * *

  
  
**Stiles:**  
  
Stiles lays still on the ground, eyes closed, barely breathing. He's got frost in his hair and his lashes, his clothes are frozen stuck to the ground and despite his own immobility he can feel every twitch from the wolves guarding him.  
  
“Scott. If you don't stop twitching I'm going to tie you down to the ground” he hisses, tamping down on the roots that were ready to emerge from the ice and bind Scott's leg.  
  
They've tried every single resource they've had at their disposal but they couldn't find Audrey- he only had one option they hadn't tried- asking the dead. If he could speak to the dead, if he could just nudge the veil-  
  
“Derek, take me to the oak tree” he says at last, sitting up and shaking his hair out. He's got an awful headache from laying on the cold ground for so long. “Just Derek please, I can't concentrate” he'd neglected his training for so long now he'd seemed to have regressed massively.  
  
They leave for the oak tree almost immediately, Stiles shrugging off the offers of food and rest- the longer he procrastinated the harder it'd get for him to touch the veil. Soon after he accepts Derek's offer of being carried; he didn't have the time to wait till Beltain for it to become more visible and his best option now was to do it between twilight and dawn- he’d wasted enough time that the sun would rise soon.  
  
“What can I do?” Derek whispers, kneeling beside him when he kneels at the base of the oak.  
  
“I don't know how to do this” Stiles admits, “so I have no idea how you could help. I'm really struggling to find a way to concentrate”  
  
“What exactly do you need to concentrate on?” Derek asks him, taking his cold hand in one of his own and squeezing it gently. “You found the edge of the ash circle when you couldn't breathe or see- why is this harder?”  
  
“The veil it's-” Stiles struggles to find the right words to describe it adequately. “It doesn't belong to this world. The ridge to the circle was like looking for glass in the snow, you can completely see through it yes but it could be felt easier than the veil is. The dead roam this earth but from behind it, it's always separating us. I- a spiders web. It's like a single strand of a spider's web, it's there but barely there, it's not something we'd notice at all if we brushed past it but sometimes, just sometimes the sun is just right or it's rained and we can see that singular strand. Samhain is that sun and twilight is that rain- they make the veil more prominent.”  
  
“You've seen the veil before?” Derek asks, rubbing a soothing hand down Stiles’ back, he's terrified he'd catch the cold or get frostbite the longer he spent out here without fur to keep him warm.  
  
“I have. I've touched it too. It takes a lot of strength and power to get through it however. Despite our connection with the dead, our minds still try to protect us by never letting us fully connect- that much death would drive anyone insane. To get through we have to remove that barrier for a moment.”  
  
“Stiles- I don't want you going insane” Derek tells him quickly “We can find another way to find her Stiles, I'm sure everyone will agree that you're far too important to do such a risky-”  
  
“My grandmother has completely given herself over. She's removed the barrier” Stiles cuts him off “She’s blind but she sees far more than any of us because her mind wanders through both this realm and the realm of the dead. We do not know the full extent of it, she foresaw Deucalion’s downfall and no one believed her- it's unheard of to be able to prophesize the future but she did it. And again with our marriage, she'd foreseen that you'd find your true mate in me before you had even arrived” he doesn't mention the details of his bibi’s other prophecy, how she'd seen them at the camp with their children- children that were both unnamed and shifters.  
  
“Is it a physical process or a mental one?” Derek draws him into his arms, finally giving up on pretending he can stand the goosebumps on his skin.  
  
“Mental. It’s like falling asleep. The way they say death is” it's what scared him the most. With the ridge it was a physical thing, he'd been able to feel the split with his mortal fingers, there had been no danger posed. With the veil there was no guarantee the mind would remain in the same state as his slumbering body.  
  
“When we shift into our full wolf bodies we also have to break down a mental barrier.” Derek offers “it's why so little shifters are able to- most shift to their beta form with ease but we’re still human in that stage, we’re still in full control. When we enter our full wolf stage we are beasts. To enter full wolf stage we have to accept that we too are beats, we are one and the same. A lot of shifters don't want to remove the separation between the human them and the animal within.”  
  
“So how do you do it? You shift into full wolf so often now I thought it would be easier to do” but now that he thinks of it, he hasn't seen any of the others shift to full wolf, not even the twins.  
  
“I'm not scared of that side of me” Derek says simply “I know that no matter how much I let the wolf out I'll always return to my human state. I have you to come back to” Derek runs a hand up Stiles’ shirt, brushing over his beating heart where the ink containing his blood sat. “Before I would anchor my human self down with thoughts of my pack. You came along and offered me more stability. I belong to you and I shall always return to you; no matter how hard it is.”  
  
An anchor. Something that would keep him tethered to this world without fully giving himself over to the other. Is that how his bibi managed to flit between both?  
  
“Thank you Derek.” He breathes out “I'm going to try again now, could I use you as my anchor?” Stiles tells him, settling back against his chest more comfortably.  
  
“I wouldn't have it any other way”  
  
This time when he slips under it’s not with the thoughts of the veil, he concentrates on Derek and Derek alone. He lets his mind free knowing that Derek would be there, a beacon for him to return to.  
  
He'd never gotten to this stage before, he realises when he steps out of his body, he'd always imagined to calm his body to a state similar to death and then imagined his mind would slip through the veil. He hadn’t expected to see his own body lying in Derek's arms as his husband cradled him protectively.  
  
“Derek?” He tries, just testing. He gets no response, Derek doesn't even look up when he brushes a hand through his hair.  
  
The veil wasn't something you walked through, it was something that shrouded you.  
  
  
**Derek:**  
  
Derek sits there with Stiles cradled in his arms, not moving himself until he hears Stiles’ heartbeat almost disappear. It was still there but only just, the beats few and far between.  
  
“Stiles?” Derek whispers quietly, no response, not even the uptick of his pulse to say he'd heard. He keeps him in his arms, Stiles had told them all that if it was to work not to move his body, it'd add stress to his mind if he woke up in a different place.  
  
After almost an hour when Stiles’ lips were turning blue from being out so cold Derek shifts, completely enveloping his mate for the warmth his body had to offer, nuzzles their faces together to heat him back up. He hadn't expected Stiles to take this long at all, he'd thought he'd enter the other world, ask if anyone had seen any suspicious activity around and then slip back out.  
  
**Stiles:**  
  
Stiles follows the sound of running water, the snow under his feet neither crunches nor flattens. If he could find out who was powerful enough to melt the river- the river hadn't been frozen. At least not the one behind the veil.  
  
A woman sits at the bank of the river washing her clothes, sniffling every now and again. When he moves out of the line of trees and towards her, calling out a soft ‘excuse me’ her sniffles turn to sobs but she doesn't stop her washing.  
  
“Ma’am, are you okay? Why are you crying?” He asks. This time when he moves forward the dead leaves under his feet crunch, he keeps moving until he's near enough to put out a hand and stop hers from dipping beneath the river again. “Tell me”  
  
Stiles rears back when she looks up, trying to scuttle away from the woman crying tears of blood, her hands drenched in it as she tried to scrub the blood off her clothes.  
  
“They're all dying,” she whispers “everything is dying”. She lifts up what he'd taken as a leaf and hands it to him, the innards of the roach squish against his flesh.  
  
Stiles runs as fast as he can from the clearing, the crunch beneath his feet sickening. He runs and runs and runs until his own body is in sight, looking as good as dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the photoset, it's absolutely stunning:
> 
> http://lykoslupus.tumblr.com/post/146308089516/fic-faves-ill-be-a-moonsbreath-by-your-side
> 
> she's definitely worth a follow :)


	14. Juniper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just over a week to put up and I really don't think this chapter flows- it's come across as very very choppy but I'd rather put something up and then reword it later if it bugs me too much rather than taking another year long break XD  
> Each chapter works out to be around 4 pages on a word document but once it's put up here it looks like absolute nothing.

**Derek:**

 

Stiles had woken up with a gasp and fought out of his hold to fall into the grass and violently throw up, almost hysterical in his haste to get away. He'd checked the grass frantically and for a moment Derek had worried for the worst- that Stiles had lost his mind- worrying even more when Stiles faints. He carries him back to camp, only the steady beat of his heart kept him calm- he wasn't behind the veil and he wasn't dead- that would be enough for now. 

 

Once inside the cave he lays Stiles down on their furs and calls for his pack, stroking back his hair. He's worried, so so worried. Melissa brings with her a handkerchief filled with dried mint leaves and holds it beneath his nose, from the corner of his eye Derek watches as Audrey’s mother sidles in, most probably hoping for some news of her daughter- he can't even meet her eyes. 

 

Stiles rouses slowly, blinking even slower and then he tries to sit up. Derek's by him in an instance to help him, letting him use his chest to lean on. 

 

“What did you see?” It's Audrey’s mother who speaks, eyes already filled with unshed tears “is she there? Behind the veil?” Is she dead. 

 

Derek releases a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when Stiles shakes his head, eyes downcast. If she wasn't dead, Derek can't imagine what Stiles had seen behind the veil for him to react so- so- 

 

“There was a woman there” Stiles whispers. “Behind the veil. She was crying and washing her clothes and I went to ask her what was wrong and she just- Eochaid. She was crying so much blood she was filling the river with it and she kept telling me that we'd all die, we were all going to die” 

 

“It was just a dream Stiles, a vision” Lydia tries to soothe, reaching out a hand to brush back his hair but that doesn't soothe him at all. 

 

“It wasn't a dream!” He snaps, angry “I didn't trick my body into thinking it was  _ dead  _ just to have a dream! I received a warning from the dead Lydia and you never ever ignore a warning from a dead person. They know things to come that we can't even imagine” 

 

“Lydia you can make a basil leaf and ginger tea for Stiles” Melissa offers. Derek waits till she leaves the room, Audrey's mother following behind her- uncaring of the information now that she knew her daughter was not yet dead before he speaks. 

 

“What can we do Stiles? We can't admit defeat and let someone kill us off one by one” he reminds him “we’re to protect these people, keep them safe” 

 

“I don't know” the helplessness in Stiles’ voice is heartbreaking, it's terrifying to hear the absence of Stiles’ drive and fight in his voice. It was completely devoid of the fire and feist he usually held. “I don't know what we're to do. We have no information at all, we’re isolated in a bloody cave whilst the world goes on around us, we have no communication with the rest of the world to know if this- this  _ thing  _ has attacked anyone else-” 

 

“Stiles!” Derek cuts off before the boy can wind himself up, “You're right. You're right love; we’re at a disadvantage here. We should contact your people” 

 

Stiles does stop mid rant, his mouth forming words that don't come out, eyes wide. 

“You're going to contact my people?” He asks in surprise. The surprise colouring his voice shouldn't hurt but God it did. 

 

“Contrary to popular belief I can ask for help when we need it. I won't let you- any of you- be in anymore danger if we can help it. We’ll contact your people and see if they have any knowledge on an unnamed so powerful they can melt ice and kidnap children without a trace-” 

 

“Is that what we’re going with?” Stiles snaps. Derek looks over at him, biting his lip when he sees how Stiles’ hands are clenched into fists. None of his betas speak, all having gone mute under Stiles’ anger. 

 

“She was taken without a trace Stiles” Derek reasons “no hunter could do that. I know you said an unnamed running wouldn't outrun a wolf either but the only explanation we have as of right now is magic- and only the unnamed have magic.”

* * *

  
  


**Stiles:**

 

It takes days is the only problem, nearing on to two weeks and each day that passes the less chance Audrey has of being alive. Isaac and Cora are the ones that travel to his village this time, Derek wouldn't be budged from his sentry position from the front of the cave and no one had risked asking him to go. 

 

“I think we should leave the cave” Stiles tells him, two days before whoever his people sent were due to arrive. 

 

“It's still cold” Derek grumbles. They were huddled together at the mouth of the cave, watching for any movement in the dark. 

 

“Are you afraid of the cold big guy?” Stiles teases, nudging him gently. He knows it's cold but the more time they spent out here the angrier they were all getting. They were cooped up like ants, all clambering over one another. 

 

“There are humans here too Stiles. They'll be cold and unsafe.” His husband didn't seem to be in the mood for teasing so Stiles softens, nosing at Derek's shoulder. 

 

“The snow is melting, I know it is, I can feel the insects starting to wake. They have furs and cloaks and I'll dry log fire for them. I'll also set up a parameter, an ash one that'll keep everything bad out without giving anyone a chance to lock us in. We won't be isolated and neither will they all be so irritable.” 

 

He insists they put it to the rest of the pack the next morning and when the others- Peter- seem sceptical, Stiles reminds them that the humans were all terrified. They'd been attacked in the cave, they had had one amongst them taken and they knew that from this cave the pack couldn't do anything to save the little girl. They were terrified and giving them that bit of freedom would only bring them some good. 

 

“It'll be too hard for us to patrol” Ethan reasons but Stiles just shakes his head. 

 

“I'll lay down an ash circle. Nothing can get in or out without me knowing. You will only have to patrol the perimeter of that circle.” He tells him calmly, he'd thought about this, had entertained the idea back when he'd been trying to find a human with the motives to kill them all and had discovered they'd all hated it in the cave. 

 

“We won't be able to leave” Peter says curtly. “It'll keep everyone out and us in.” 

 

“And that's different to your current situation?” Stiles bites back “I will know who is entering and who is leaving and I'll let you out or in if need be. I'll know the movement of every human too- anyone who sneaks out to meet this unnamed or a hunter will be known.” 

 

“That's an awful lot of trust we’re to put in you” Stiles worries for a second Peter will continue to rebuke him this way but the older man just shakes his head, standing down. “But I agree with you on that last part. There is someone here conspiring with the unnamed and if this gives you a chance to track them down, so be it. The tension in the caves aren't helping anyone”. He's floored for a second, shocked that he and Peter had agreed on anything at all. His silence stretches long enough for Peter to roll his eyes with a huff. 

* * *

 

 

**Derek:**

 

Isaac and Cora return two days later than they had been expected, a full two weeks after they had set out. They'd announced to the people that they'd be moving back to the valley in their tents; by the time his betas return with Stiles’ father and his teacher in tow with a chest full of books and scrolls, they'd started moving back out of the cave, the tents were up and the horses had been accounted for and tethered back inside their camp. There’d been something akin to joy in the eyes of the people when they'd ventured out again. When the first tent had gone up, the metal creaking from disuse and the cold, the thick white material stiff from the frost, a collective cheer had gone up. They hated it in the cave, during the previous winters the nomadic people had made do with their cramped conditions for a few months, bored whilst they'd waited for the ice to thaw- but never had they been trapped within it like they had this winter. 

 

Stiles runs to his father the second he catches sight of him, hugging the man tightly as he rushed out a stream of words that even Derek with his sensitive hearing could make no sense of- not that he'd been eavesdropping. He gives them some time to discreetly wipe their eyes before he goes to meet his father in law himself. 

 

“Sir,” he says politely, every time he saw the man the nerves got the better of him and he became a bumbling sweating fool. It was hard not to when he knew the man thought his son deserved better. Derek wouldn't dispute that. 

 

Once the camp is fully set up Stiles spends the evening lining it with ash, a small bag with a hole in it tied around his waist as he walked the perimeter with his eyes closed. There’s an itch beneath his skin that gets worse and worse the more ground Stiles covers, the more he traps them in. 

 

When the first shout rings out clear Derek ignores it, gesturing with a nod of his head for Erica to check on it, it sounded like a skirmish and was probably nothing but an argument over firewood or pots and pans not being accounted for, they’d been more and more common since they’d started unpacking the belongings they’d stored away for the winter. The shouting doesn’t stop, Audrey’s mother’s voice the loudest of them all. When he gets to her tent she’s being restrained by her husband, her hair wild and her eyes burning. He struggles to hold on to her whilst she spits and screams, the tendons of her neck sticking out. 

 

“-At least we were safe!” She screams, and it takes him a second to realise she was talking to Erica, screaming at his beta. Her husband holds on to her fast, trying to tug her away whilst apologising, repeating over and over again that she didn’t mean it, she was just angry. 

 

“What’s happening here?” Derek asks, from the corner of his eyes he sees John arrive with Isaac and Scott. 

 

“Apparently this is all our fault.” Erica says curtly. He doesn’t know how she’d managed to keep so calm, he could already feel his fangs threatening to push out with the constant noise. “It’s our fault that Audrey’s been taken, they were safer under Deucalion” The husband shouts a loud no, his voice getting desperate as he looks from Derek to Erica, begging them to not listen to her. 

 

“She’s lost her mind, the griefs gotten too much,” he sobs “She has no idea what she’s talking about, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, she doesn’t mean it, she’s just completely overcome by-” Derek doesn’t get to hear the rest because there’s a cry that he recognises all too well, somewhere in the camp Stiles falls with a thump. 

  
Their heads all whip around at once when they hear it, Derek hears John asking someone if that had been Stiles in a panicked voice but he doesn’t know if anyone answers him, he just runs as fast as he can towards where he could still hear Stiles’ heart beating-  _ thumpthumpthump-  _ the consistency of the beat was the only thing that stopped him from fully shifting when he sees the arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song Samain Night by Loreena McKennitt. 
> 
>  
> 
> This will be explicit later on and Stiles is 15 in this, which is not underage in the AU world.


End file.
